What Makes a Family
by FireflyCity
Summary: Some families have a way of finding you. Part of my Until Dawn Pack!Au.
1. Strays

Oo0oO

 _Chris_

He left when he was 16. Younger than he should have, or so everyone told him. His sisters protested the hell out of it. But he had to go. He just had to.

"You'll die out there, on your own." He still remembered the hollowed tone of the alpha's words. One last warning playacting as if he actually cared.

 _I'd rather that than stay_. In his mind, Chris had growled the words back at him. In his mind, a lot of things had gone differently. On that day, he hadn't looked back. Not at his father, the alpha. Not at his sisters, Kate and Erin. Not at any of his denmates. He couldn't bare it. Without a word, he left.

 _Regret_ didn't catch him until a week later.

Then his family was all he could think about. Visions of home plagued his dreams, he mistook every wandering howl for one he recognized. Memories of his old pack chased him no matter how many miles he put between himself and that place. In the cities, when he strayed that far into human territory, he'd catch himself staring at every blonde he passed. They all looked like _them._ Like Erin, and Kate. Occasionally, even like his father. He was never sure if he felt relieved or panicked to see them.

Because all Chris could remember was the night before. The last time he spoke to them all.

"Come with me." He could still taste the words on his throat. "We can get out of here, all three of us.

"You want to leave the pack? That's…crazy!" Erin was almost offended at the suggestion.

"Crazy? What's crazy about it?" He thought she'd jump at the opportunity. Erin, wild Erin. Erin who was always picking fights. Erin who got sent home from school for talking back to teachers. Erin who took down a pack of coyotes single-handedly when dad was injured. Erin who everyone was sure was going to be the next alpha. Wild Erin.

"How about all of it?" She'd snapped back at him. "Chris, our entire lives our here. We can't pack up and leave just because you and Dad don't see eye to eye."

"What, like you two do?" Chris was exasperated.

"Just because we fight doesn't mean I want to leave him, or that I hate him."

"Doesn't mean you have to live with him either."

Erin snarled. "Chris you don't understand. We can't just leave! For fuck's sake Kate is _pregnant_! She needs this pack, she needs _us_. Don't you get it?"

"We'll find a new pack!" Chris shot back at her.

"Oh yeah? You really think we're gonna find a pack willing to accept three new members, four if we count her mate, just like that?"

"Well maybe!"

"No Chris, there's no _maybe_. It's too big of a risk." She barred her teeth at him. Though they were in human form at the moment, Chris couldn't help himself, he stepped back.

Nothing his submission, Erin froze, checking herself. Slowly, she retreated, lowering her voice until it was somewhere almost calm. "Look. I understand your resentment, really…I do. But we can't leave all this behind. This pack is our family, we have too much invested here to just walk away from it. If you really hate this place, fine, leave. But don't expect us to come with you."

"Erin…" He started to argue.

"I mean it." She'd snapped back at him. And Chris could tell she did.

At the time, he'd felt so angry, so betrayed. He practically turned on her, right then and there in the middle of their living room. How could _she_ of all people be content to live like this? Chris knew how she felt about their father. He'd seen her grit her teeth more than once in his direction. But now that he was offering her a way out, she denied him. He had the gall to call her a coward.

Chris didn't realize until later how wrong he was. Erin wanted change just as much as he did. On that night, Erin had asked him to fight. It was a challenge, in her own way. _If you hate it so much, stand up to him._

But he couldn't. Not against him. He wasn't alpha material. Not like her anyways.

Chris had always been bigger than the other wolves in his pack. His mother, when she was alive, insisted it meant he would grow up into some great hunter. Maybe even a leader. Chris didn't have the heart to tell her she was wrong. And he didn't have to stomach to stand up to his father and prove it to her ghost.

So he fled. Just like that, he ran without looking back.

For two years he was on the road, hitchhiking when he could, running in wolf form the rest of the time. He'd thought to head out to the desert, somewhere his golden fur would actually help him instead of hinder him. He didn't even make it to the border when he doubled back. He couldn't help himself, something in the mountains called to him.

Oo0oO

Chris was somewhere near Blackwood county when it happened. He'd been chasing down a rabbit, gray and speckled white, the first bit of good prey he'd seen in a while. He was caught up in the chase, one of the few liberties of being a free wolf of course being the whole _free_ thing. No worrying about boundaries or subtly, about bringing enough home for the pack. There was just him, just the hunt.

Needless to say, he was less than prepared when another wolf came bursting out of the underbrush, and barreled straight into his side.

"Aaah!" Chris yelped as the wolf crashed into him, knocking him off course and pinning him to the ground. Though momentarily stunned, Chris recovered quickly, working his way out from under his assailant and leaping to his feet. In an instant his tail as in the air, lips drawn back into a snarl as he faced his challenger. Meanwhile, the wolf in question lay whimpering on the ground.

"Oww!" The wolf slowly brought himself to his feet. He was young, Chris noticed, somewhere around his own age, and had shaggy black fur and a thin, wiry frame. He seemed distracted; by the looks of it, the supposed attack had been hardly more than an accident.

In a moment Chris confirmed, as the wolf – seeing Chris in a dominant stance – immediately retreated.

"Oh…my god I'm so sorry." He pressed himself near to the ground, taking a submissive position. "I was just running…and then there was a rabbit and…" He smiled sheepishly.

Chris hesitated. He'd been expecting a fight. "What?"

"I was running and there was a rabbit and then you were there and then we crashed…" The wolf repeated evenly. "I'm really sorry bro."

"Bro?" Chris felt his snarl fade. Clearly, whoever this was, they mean didn't fight him.

"Yeh…bro." A hopeful look passed the black wolf's face.

Chris narrowed his eyes. Taking this opportunity, he approached the other wolf, circling him slowly and taking long whiffs. The younger wolf, still unsure himself, obliged. The wolf had the smell of a pack to him, Chris able to pick up at least one, no, two other distinct scents besides his own. And, by judge of action, Chris was fairly confident he was talking to their omega.

Somewhat relieved, Chris lowered his guard, stepping back from the young wolf calmly.

Seeing the tension had passed, the other wolf cautiously raised to a standing position. "Is that it? Are we good?"

"Um…yeah." Chris said awkwardly, stepping back a bit. In truth he was still getting used to the formality of the situation.

Over the years, he'd had no small number of encounters with other wolf packs. When he was young, Chris's father mostly handled things himself, though once or twice Chris had helped to wave through a stray that wandered into their territory.

After he left, he'd met all sorts of wolves: loners, hunters, pack wolves. Most treated him with the same level of caution, held him at a distance until he proved himself an ally or foe. The only exception previously was an old, graying loner who led him through Shade Pass a ways west. Besides that, Chris had often found himself on guard around other wolves, and they around him. But beyond his own pack's omega, this was actually his first time encountering a wolf lower in rank.

"What's your name kid?" Chris tried to play it cool, sizing up the younger wolf like he'd seen his father size up others passing through their own territory.

"Josh." The young wolf perked up a bit more. "What's your name?"

"Uh…I'm Chris." He lost his cool as soon as he found it.

"Alright Chris." Josh smiled. "Nice to meet you bro."

Oo0oO

When Josh first asked Chris to join his pack, Chris couldn't help himself. He laughed.

"Something wrong?" Matt, a jumpy young wolf with brown fur, asked defensively.

"No nothing." He chuckled. "This just, wasn't what I was expecting." He looked out over the gathered wolves.

Including Josh, there were three currently in his pack. Josh, as Chris had correctly presumed, was the omega. Though, at 20, he was in fact the oldest of the group. Matt was the youngest, and dead center of their picking order. Most surprising, however, was their alpha. Hardly older than he, she seemed a patient sort, with kind eyes and golden fur like him. He couldn't help himself, he was entranced.

"What were you expecting?" The alpha, Sam, turned her head inquisitively.

 _Not this_. He almost said it out loud. For two years now he'd been looking for a pack, some place that felt right to him. Some place to call his own. And though werewolf packs were rare among the wilds, they weren't _that_ rare. Josh's offer wasn't the first that had come Chris's way, not by a longhshot. But it was the first that mattered.

He'd seen a lot of different groups in passing. Groups that traveled with a lot of kids, groups that traveled with none. Groups who refused to let females be the alpha, groups where the entire group was composed of females. A lot were the same. A lot were like his father's. Where the picking order was everything and the alpha's word was law. Where the alpha was headstrong and confident or they were overthrown.

This was nothing like that, Chris could tell already.

When Josh brought him to Sam she hadn't sized him up. She wasn't looking for his angle, his weak spot. Besides some initial curiosity, she'd greeted him like family. Like a brother.

Chris chuckled to himself. They practically were a siblings, age-wise at least. They all were. They were just kids. Runaways. A collection of strays and remnants of other packs. Matt was proof enough Sam also didn't give a shit whether they were born or turned.

Nothing could be farther from his father's pack.

It was exactly what he'd been looking for.

"I don't know." He finally answered the alpha's question, turning to Sam cheerily. "But I like it."

Oo0oO

 **A/N:** Idea sounding/concept help from marsellia-rose. Basically an au where they're all half-werewolf and join together in a wolf pack, and basically protect each other and become a giant family. There should be 8 in total when I'm done, one for each character.

...Eventually

Anyways thank you all for reading. See you in the next chapter!

P.S. Bonus points if you read this while listening to "Renegades" by X Ambassadors.

Oo0oO


	2. The Woods

Oo0oO

 _Jess_

 _Don't go into the woods_. That's what all the responsible types used to say. _There are scary things out there. Dangerous things, things that could tear a little girl apart_. But all the danger in her life never came from the woods.

 _Don't go into the woods_. There was something about don'ts that always made you need to. Something tantalizing about the word no. Wasn't it always easier to ask for forgiveness than permission?

It was cold that night. Fall weather, but still colder than her liking. Laughter kept her warm, she and her friends dancing in and out of streetlights like they were on a stage. In a way they were. It was a Friday, all the city kids were out on these days. Looking for trouble in all the wrong dark corners. The woods weren't as scary as all the adults told them they were.

Jess was good at feigning courage. Pretending she didn't have her mother's golden rules etched in the folds of her palms. _Stay in the light. Stay with the group. Stay away from strangers._

She recited them to her friends like they were a joke. As if her eyes didn't dart to every alleyway spotting for men with sharp objects. As if she didn't hold her keys between her knuckles like they were claws. As if she didn't walk in the back just to make sure she could keep them all in eyesight at once.

 _Don't go into the woods_. But what happened when the monster greeted you with a smile? Held your hand? Promised to protect you? At some point you forget where the fences end and the woods begin.

Running into them was an accident. As easy as turning a corner. Kids the same age have a way of gravitating towards one another. Boys from the same school. Troublemakers like the kind Jess's mom was sure she'd grow up to be.

They were headed to the same place. The movies were always a hit with _their_ type. Naturally they decided to walk together. Safety in numbers and all that good stuff.

The boy from her chemistry class was the brave one. Brave enough to walk beside her even when she pretended she wanted to be alone. Brave enough to take her hand when she hesitated.

"C'mon Jess." His touch was warm as he dragged her into the theatre. Jess couldn't help herself, she blushed.

The movie was nothing special. They usually weren't. Some shitty horror film with a useless female lead. God, Jess hated that stuff.

Jess took his suggestion to get some fresh air at face value. She left her phone and purse in the theatre. She figured 5 minutes wouldn't kill her.

She'd forgotten how cold it was. Ever the gentleman, he offered her his jacket. She called him on it too.

"What a gentleman." She batted her eyelashes in his direction. That one she'd learned all on her own.

He laughed. She laughed back at him. They got to talking, like people do. Then they got to kissing. Like people do. And then his hand traveled places it shouldn't have.

Jess remembered the feeling well. Of all the cold rushing back to her at once. She pushed him away. He pushed back. She yelled at him. He wasn't getting it. His hands were still around her waist, up her shirt. They struggled, she yelled. And then she pushed him. _Hard_.

He screamed when he hit the ground. Jess swore. She rushed to him. Told him she didn't mean to hurt him. That if he'd just stopped she wouldn't have pushed him. Jess went to apologize. And then the boy from her chemistry class wasn't there anymore. And then the monster showed its face.

What happened next was a blur. Yellow eyes in the darkness, a snarl like the sound of distant thunder. And then she was bleeding. And then she was alone.

 _Don't go into the woods_. That's what her mom always told her. But what happened when the woods came to you?

Her body knew what was happening before her brain did. She ran as fast as she could. The pain was enormous, like fire skating across her skin. And then the girl was gone. And then the woods consumed her.

Oo0oO

It took Jess two days to figure out what happened to her. And two more to pull herself together enough to make it back home. Her family had been worried sick. Her mom cried when she saw her, all cut up and half-starved. Jess didn't have the energy to hug her back. She wasn't sure who had failed who.

They let her stay home from school. No one bothered to argue with her, not after the lie she invented to explain her absence. The only scary part was how close it was to the truth.

"It'll be okay." Her mother's embrace was soft, like she was afraid of breaking her any further. "It's all over now. You're safe."

 _But it's not_. Jess shivered at her touch. _And I'm not_.

For the first week, Jess wouldn't leave her room. Her dad wanted to call a psychologist, like it was the sort of thing that could be fixed with reassuring words and little white pills. Jess was in her mind to suggest a bullet. Preferably silver.

But that wasn't the worst part. As much as it terrified her, she didn't _want_ to die. She wanted answers. And the only one with them was gone.

Through word of mouth she discovered he skipped town, he and his whole family. She figured they were afraid she'd share their secret. Jess liked to trick herself into thinking they didn't know that they'd changed her. That if they knew, they'd come back for her. Explain everything. Treat her like family. Like she was part of their pack. That's what wolves traveled in, wasn't it? Packs?

When she realized they weren't coming back Jess figured she should find one on her own.

Every night she traveled out, searching. Venturing farther and farther from home with each passing cycle. She headed north, in their direction. Towards the mountains. Towards the forests.

Don't go into the woods. The irony of it almost brought her to tears. _Sorry mom_. _They didn't leave me with much choice._

Soon enough she found them, the wolves. Not him, never his pack. But others.

Jess was foolish enough to think they'd help her. That they'd see one of their own, lost and alone, and lend a hand. That they'd explain things, maybe even invite her to their pack. She couldn't have been more wrong.

"Hey." It was late. She only had a few hours left until dawn. "Hey can you help me? Please? I'm lost. I'm trying to get back to Sandbrooke." It was somewhere west she imagined. Even with her improved senses, the wilderness still had a way of turning everything around.

"Sandbrooke?" One of them, a brass-furred male echoed her. "Never heard of it."

"It's near Winston." Jess batted her tail impatiently.

"Never heard of it." He shook his head.

His partner, a bulkier, white-furred male, growled. "Don't waste your time with her Alex. She's deadweight as it is. She's fresh-turned."

"I'm what?" Jess stepped back.

The first one, Alex, looked startled. "Really?" A look of disgust passed over him. "How can you tell?"

"Use your fucking nose." The white-furred one snarled. "She's still got that human smell all over her."

Alex took a long sniff. After a moment, he gagged. "Oh Jesus you're right."

"Um…what's going on?" Jess couldn't help herself, she felt her tail sink between her legs.

"We're talking about you honey." A sly smile crept across the second wolf's face. "And the fact that you've just been bitten."

"I…" She didn't think they could tell. Or rather, she hadn't been sure that mattered. Had _they_ not been bitten? Jess was pretty sure that was how it worked. Werewolves bit humans to make other werewolves. Then why would they call her out on it. Uncertain, Jess retreated slightly.

"Hm. Don't know why they bothered." The brass-colored one slunk around her, looking disappointed. "Look at her. She wouldn't be worth much as a breeder. Much less a hunter."

Jess retreated further. It was true, she was smaller than most other wolves she'd seen, her frame much thinner and fur sleeker then either of her present company. She thought it was what she was meant to look like. She'd hoped that made her beautiful.

"That's not the bite's fault." The second one rebutted. "That's just because she's young. And a she-wolf."

"What?" Jess felt her fur stand on end.

"Ah right." The first conceded. "Waste of a gift. If you could call turned humans a gift."

"And with _that_ coat?" The second eyed her blonde fur. "No wonder the guy who changed you left."

Jess felt her heart stop dead.

"Take it back." She shivered.

"Hm?" The white-furred one prompted her.

"Take. It. Back." She raised her tail, drawing her lips back in a soft snarl.

"Ooh did that make you angry?" The second one coaxed her again, amused. "You gonna fight us?"

It was a challenge, plain and simple. Jess took it.

Oo0oO

 _Don't go into the woods._ That's what all the responsible types used to say. Jess tried to listen. That's what she told herself, as she limped back home. That she'd tried.

She was bleeding, bad. There was a wound along her back left leg that wouldn't seem to close. Jess grunted through the pain. Their laughs haunted her every step. " _Greenie". "She-wolf"_. Each nickname accompanied by a cruel snap of their jaws. " _Weak". "Worthless"_. " _Stupid"._ Her mind recited it back to her like a lullaby.

" _Disgusting"_. Eventually she collapsed. She'd make it home tomorrow.

Oo0oO

Slowly, the months passed. And then it was winter. Finally. Jess released a breath she didn't know she'd been holding in. She supposed she should have been more disappointed. After all, the snow made hunting harder, forced her to stoke her fires higher and higher when she was home. But for once, the cold was refreshing.

She'd convinced her parents to let her move in with her grandparents. They were up north a ways, near the mountains. As far from the city as she could get. Her parents thought it was exactly what she needed, especially after what happened that fall. For once she couldn't agree more.

Her grandparents were happy to have her. They were the simple sort, the kind that didn't question her sneaking out in the middle of the night, hardly blinked at the calloused forming on her hands and feet. If they noticed the occasional bloody clothes in the drier, they kept their mouths shut. Jess figured she was lucky to have them.

It was the height of the season when she heard it. The snowfall, though light, nearly disguised it. But the sounds were unmistakable to her. The snickers caught in the wind. The snap-snap of jaws near a nervous target. The smell of fear and fresh blood.

"Quit it!" A female voice protested, anger and distress tainting her words.

"Aww does this hurt?" A husky, male voice taunted.

"Run back to your pack greenie. I'm sure they'll protect you." Another chimed in.

"Leave me alone!" She cried out again, sounding desperate.

They laughed again.

Her feet seemed to know what she wanted to do even before her mind did. One moment, Jess was in the shadows. Out of sight, out of mind, thinking to run. The next put her in the middle of them.

"Back off." Jess spat out the words, putting herself physically between the she-wolf and her assailants. They stopped laughing.

"This one of your pack?" One with black fur sized her up. "Another greenie?"

"How nauseating." The second chimed in.

Jess didn't even flinch. "This is your last warning. Back. Off."

"Or you'll what?"

It was another challenge. Just like before. Their only mistake was thinking she wouldn't take it seriously.

Oo0oO

 _Don't go into the woods_. That's what all the responsible types used to say. _There are scary things out there. Dangerous things, things that could tear a little girl apart_. But all the danger in her life never came from the woods.

"Fucking psycho bitch!" Their howls crowded the air.

She let them get away. Though, not unscathed. Jess licked their blood from her lips with a certain level of satisfaction. With luck, they'd take it as a message.

Slowly, she turned to the other she-wolf cowering behind her. She was young, about her age, with thick red fur and big green eyes. A look of awe came over her.

"You saved me." The red-furred wolf breathed a sigh wonder.

"Are you alright?" Jess nosed the wolf, motioning her to her feet.

"Yeah I think so." Though clearly shaken, she seemed mostly unharmed. Another small victory.

"What's your name?"

"Ashley." She wagged her tail slightly. "And you're…?"

"Jess."

"Jess." She smiled. "Thanks for saving me."

They got to talking. About wolves who tried for more then they deserved. About traveling the woods alone. About hunting. Whatever. In an hour they were laughing about it. At some point Ashley mentioned a pack. Female-led, operated in the area, turned and born werewolves alike. Seven strong. Jess played along like she'd heard of plenty in her day. She knew she would join even before Ashley thought to offer.

 _Don't go into the woods_. Jess pondered the statement as Ash led her to meet the rest of the pack. It was a warning applicable as literally as it was figuratively. _There are scary things out there. Dangerous things, things that could tear a little girl apart._ Jess smiled to herself. She should consider herself fortunate, the most deadly thing in these woods was her.

Oo0oO

 **A/N:** Being a werewolf is hard man. Props to Jess for figuring out how to fight her own battles.


	3. Hunger

Oo0oO

 _Ashley_

Afterwards, everything was quiet. Afterwards, nothing moved.

Still like gone. Quiet like death. Afterwards, she was alone.

That's the thing about silence, you're never prepared for it when it comes. Then it's every bit as overwhelming as the storm of color and noise that always proceeds it. Suddenly you miss the turmoil, the turmoil you were begging to be free of just moments ago. Life has a weird way of making you regret the things you never expect. To miss the things you were so sure you were ready to lose.

It was late. Wasn't it always, when these sorts of things happened? Her family had decided to go out for dinner for the first time in forever. It was her brother's birthday. He was turning 10.

Ashley tried to feign support. She pressed a smile into her lips hard enough to make her cheeks burn. To distract herself. To distract them. She thought if she ignored it long enough it would go away.

 _Rub rub_.

Her fingers ghosted over the wound.

She'd dressed it up properly, or as best she could. It was small. Nothing to complain to her parents about. It annoyed her, sure, but it was no reason to cause a fuss. Nothing to worry about.

 _Rub rub_.

It was stupid how it happened. Ashley thought of it every time she looked back. Some stupid dog who'd wandered in from the woods. Some stupid dog rustling for scraps in their trashcan.

" _Get out of here! Go!"_

Ashley had expected it to run. And then the next thing she knew was the scrape of teeth against her leg.

She kicked it. Hard. It went flying, yelping when it landed before skittering away with a whimper. She almost felt bad for it. Almost.

 _Rub rub._

That was hours ago. That should have been the end of it. She _thought_ that was the end of it.

Ashley squirmed in the booth. Was she running a fever? It was hard to tell, the whole place was too damn hot. It was also too loud. The chatter of patrons and too-friendly waiters and bustle of the kitchen staff. _Clang clang clang_. Everything too loud all at once.

Her brother didn't seem to notice. If anything, he was loving it; hamming it up like usual, grinning his big toothy smile. He laughed at everything and everyone, like the whole world was just a big joke to him. That was the birthday effect. The feeling that, for just today, the world was special. The world was safe. The world was yours.

He'd picked the restaurant himself. A comfy little sit-down place at the far end of town. Ashley bitched about it because she figured she should. That was her job after all, as his older sister. Her parents stuck to their own roles and dragged her along. She pretended to hate the idea.

Ashley couldn't remember exactly when it started. The discomfort. The blurred vision. The pain. By the time she realized something was wrong it was far too late.

"Ashley, honey, are you okay? You don't look so good." It was her mom, doting as usual.

"I'm fine." Ashley could barely work up the effort necessary to get the words out. Her throat felt like sandpaper. "I just…need a moment."

She slipped out before they could get a word in edgewise. Past the bustle, the too broad staff with too warm bodies. _Ba-dum. Ba-dum_. Part of her swore she could hear heartbeats.

 _Ba-dum. Ba-dum_. By the time she got outside she could hear her own. _Ba-dum. Ba-dum_.

Her head was spinning, a feeling of dizziness and delirium overtaking her. Ashley felt her knees tremble, her vision shift in an out of focus. And there was the pain. Like lightning underneath her skin, itching to be let out.

There was no doubt about it. Something was wrong. _Very_ wrong. She'd call it sickness, to justify it to herself. But even that didn't feel right. No cold hit this quickly. Not like this.

Her mind came back to the dog. It must have had rabies. Or worms or…whatever it was. Something infectious. Something powerful. Oh god. Didn't people die from rabies? What if that's what it was?

Panic spread through her. She tried to reach for the phone in her pocket. 911. The number was in her head. They would know what to do. They handled cases like this all the time. They could fix her. They could stop this. This feeling. This noise.

Just like that, it slipped through her fingers, hitting the ground with a deafening _thwack_. Ashley shuddered. She bent to pick it up. She missed it once, twice. "Shit." She cursed. It was her hands, they were trembling like leaves, shaking with pain and exhaustion. She wanted to cry. Ashley thought she might have. Then she heard her name.

"Ashley."

She looked up in a panic. It was her brother. He'd come out for her, it seemed, ditched his own party to check on her. He wore a frown.

"Alex." She forced out the name. She didn't move. She didn't dare.

She'd always remember how he looked in that moment. So soft, so peaceful, bathed in the pale light that slipped from the windows of the restaurant. His cheeks were pink, laugh lines prominent, memories of happiness painted all over his face. And of course his eyes. Those green green eyes. To this day the deepest shade of green she'd ever seen.

He started to say something. A sentence he'd never finish.

Oo0oO

Ashley thought she'd missed the silence. An hour ago she'd been begging for it. _Anything_ for a moment of peace. _Anything_ to shut him up. And then it came.

Only two things she remembered clearly. The first was the pain. A feeling of being torn apart and put back together again. Limb by limb, bone by bone.

The second was the hunger. Raw, unafraid, unflinching.

The rest happened in a moment. In a blur of color and noise and sound she couldn't remember if she tried. And then came the silence.

It was only in the silence that she regained her senses. It was in the silence that she noticed the blood. And the body.

A quiet of her own making. A stillness she'd been begging for.

And then came the scream.

Oo0oO

For days they chased her. Past the city limits, out over the country. With dogs and cars and guns. Ashley had half a mind to let them catch her.

But she couldn't stop. Every time she tried _it_ kicked in again. Then there was no stopping. There was no stopping _her_.

They relented, eventually. The men and their guns. And just like that she was alone. And so returned the quiet.

Except quiet wasn't quiet anymore. Not when her hearing was 16 times sharper. When she could hear the heartbeat of every living thing like rolling thunder. _Ba-dum. Ba-dum_. Begging to be ripped apart. Every twitched whisker, every rustle of fur haunted her dreams. No matter how hard she tried the hunger wouldn't go away. There was no blocking it out, not when the entire forest sang of wild, hot-blooded things.

Transforming helped. Like throwing a blanket on top of a fire. Being human made it easier to forget, disconnected her from _it_. But she could never fight it long. The hunger.

Ashley didn't dare venture back into civilization. She wasn't sure she could handle being amongst that many warm bodies. Not again. Not ever. Furthermore, she was plagued by the fear they would recognize her. They'd try to send her home. Or, if they knew, put her down.

That's what you did with wild animals, wasn't it? Put them down? Out of your hair and out of their misery? Part of her wanted to let them.

But _it_ wouldn't. The _wolf_ would never let her.

God, Ashley hated it. For weeks she wouldn't even look at herself transformed. When she finally did, it only terrified her. She looked how she felt – dangerous. Her teeth were daggers in her behind black lips, claws made for tearing skin. Her fur was thick, prone to poking out at every angle without regard for others. Thick and red. Like blood.

Ashley hated everything about it.

But there was no denying the wolf. It was a part of her, as a part of her as her own arm. And it was there. Always. She couldn't forget about it even if she tried, and no one would let her.

She was alone in the woods for a long time, but not always. Occasionally, in passing, she saw others. Others like her. Those with the blood of both wolves and humans. Ashley didn't know what to expect from them. Sympathy maybe. But even that was too much to ask for.

"Greenie. She-wolf." They spat the words at her through barred teeth.

Somehow, that made a difference to them. Ashley thought to stand up for herself. The wolf in her told her to. But then, she couldn't. _Coward_. That's the one she spat at herself. Always a coward, always running away. Running away from the bloodlust she loved as much as much as she despised.

That's how it started too, the smell of blood. It was close, smelled fresh, it woke her from her sleep. She half thought she dreamt it, until suddenly she was tasting it on the air. And then she was running. Then there was no going back.

Oo0oO

Ashley was on her feet in a heartbeat. In the next she was running. _Ba-dum Ba-dum_. Its own feeble heartbeat matched the rhythm of her paws in the snow. It had probably injured itself, no hunter in their right mind would think to leave perfectly good prey to bleed out like that. _Ba-dum ba-dum_. A beacon in the dark of night. The hunger, the bloodlust that could drive her over a hundred miles. The one that terrified her as much as it excited her. _Ba-dum. Ba-dum_.

Ashley reached the clearing just a moment too late. _Snap_. The creature's neck broke, heartbeat fluttering once before dying out. But the kill wasn't hers.

Before her stood a wolf like her, female, with thick dark fur and eyes yellow like the moon. Laying eyes on Ashley, she smiled. "Hello greenie."

She should have ran. That's what Ashley rationed, looking back at the moment. She had every other time. She should have ran and ran and never looked back. Because that's what she was good at.

But this time it was different. This time she hadn't gotten a real meal in the last 2 days. This time the taste of blood was in her lungs and in her mouth. All she knew was the kill. The hunger.

Ashley heard them. All three of them. The she-wolf before her, the two others circling around behind her. She didn't stand a chance. Her heart was racing, telling her to do the same.

She attacked before she could stop herself.

Oo0oO

"Stay back!" It was a male voice, it sounded close.

Ashley tried to open her eyes. All she could see was the red of her own blood.

In a panic, Ashley struggled to her feet. Or at least, she tried to. The pain weighed her down, her back left leg buckling under the weight of her own body as soon as she tried to stand. In her mouth was the taste of blood and snow, coppery and cold. It was a taste like fear.

"Don't move." Another male voice, young and flighty, assured her. "Stay still and you'll be alright."

Ashley would have liked to believe it. Around her, she could hear the sounds of battle. Angry barks, the scrape of paws scattering snow as each opponent tried to gain an advantage. In her mind echoed the tear of flesh, by tooth or by claw, the snapping of jaws like gunshots in the clearing. If anyone was winning, or losing, it was impossible to tell.

And of course, there was the smell of blood. Thick and heavy, all fresh. For the first time, the smell made her sick.

She passed out.

Oo0oO

When Ashley woke, the blood-splattered clearing was gone; the battle and the cold all left behind somewhere far away. She woke up inside somewhere, in human form. Around her, there were others her age. Others like her, those both half-wolf and half-human. Immediately she knew, they saved her life.

A boy named Matt, who Ashley instantly recognized as the flighty one from before, told her so in no uncertain terms. That they'd saved her life. More accurately, Sam and Chris had. She glanced toward them, across the room. Both blonde, wearing warm, though tired smiles. Ashley wondered off-handedly if they were related.

Beyond Matt, Ashley, and Chris, there was only one other, a young dark-haired boy named Josh. He was the only one among them who was anything but amiable. She'd learn later it was just his tendency to be nervous.

"Where am I?" She pushed the words out of her cracking throat.

"Lodge, higher up the mountain." It was Sam who answered, the level ease in her response implying she did this often. Even with her own, flawed understanding of wolf packs, Ashley would wager a guess – Sam was the leader. "It's our pack's homebase."

Ashley shifted slightly on her makeshift bed, which she now recognized to be a living room couch. It was red. "Then why did you bring me here?" Ashley couldn't help it, she trembled ever so slightly.

"You were dying?" It was Matt who spoke, his patience, for some reason, seemingly worn thin.

"Matt." Sam shot him a look.

"Sorry." He backed off.

"He's not wrong though." The other blonde, Chris, chuckled. "You got scraped up pretty bad back there. If we hadn't arrived when we did…" He shook his head.

Sam frowned. "Why were those she-wolves attacking you anyways?"

Ashley felt the lie reach her lips almost before she could stop herself. _Almost_. She squirmed. "I stole their prey. Or…I…I tried to it. It was my fault, they only attacked because I provoked them."

All eyes turned to Sam, who, consequently, had put a hand under her chin. Ashley had half a mind to regret saying it. But it was the truth. It was the smell of the kill, the smell of blood. Ashley winced at the very thought.

Sam considered her a moment, looking over the red-head curiously. Chris looked nervous. Matt just looked annoyed. Josh looked at Sam. Eventually, Sam's hand lowered, and she turned her head to the side.

"When's the last time you ate?"

The question surprised Ashley. She guessed 3 days. And really, that was that.

For the next week, Ashley was fussed over almost nonstop. Josh and Chris were especially clingy, hardly leaving her side until she could assure them with 100% confidence that she was alright. They treated her wounds, kept her fed, made sure she rested, doted like mothers over a newborn. It was endearing in its own sort of way.

"Don't mind them." Sam smirked in their direction, leaning slyly one day against the side of the couch. "Those dorks are just happy to have another girl in the pack."

" _In_ the pack?" Ashley echoed, eyes widening slightly. It was the one thing they hadn't talked about, at least not openly. Her joining. Some of the guys seemed to think she was a part already, by the way they treated her. But Sam was the one making final calls. Ashley hadn't been sure they even wanted her in.

Sam, meanwhile, shrugged. "You seem nice enough. And they all like you. If you want to be, you're in."

"But what about-" Ashley stopped herself. What about the hunger. It had been a week since she came to the cabin. A week since she'd transformed. She doubted it was gone. And she doubted she could control it again.

Sam considered her for a moment, then her gaze shifted far away. "It's okay."

"What?" Ashley stopped cold.

"I know what you're thinking. What you're afraid of."

Ashley felt her eyes widen. There was no way she knew. She couldn't have. "What I'm afraid of?"

Sam didn't look at her. "I saw the beginning of that fight. With the she-wolves. I saw you. Saw the hunger."

Ashley held her breath.

"You're right to be afraid of it. Misunderstanding often does that."

Ashley shivered. So there was no hiding it. Not anymore at least. But if Sam knew what it was… Ashley tried for answers. "But…what is it? Is it like…some sort of wolf disease? Can we cure it?" She hurled the questions in rapid succession. It was just her luck. To get bitten by a werewolf and on top of that contract some weird wolf disease. Just her luck.

"Disease?" Sam looked back at her, and Ashley was surprised to find amusement there. "No, nothing like that."

"Then…"

"The hunger is part of being a wolf."

"What?" Ashley stopped cold.

Sam nodded. "I've got it, Chris, Matt, and Josh have it, the she-wolves you fought with earlier have it. It's in our blood, in our instincts as werewolves."

"That's…no that…can't be possible." Ashley shook her head. "Then I can't get rid of it? I have to live like _this_ forever?" Her whole body began to shake. Her mind raced back to that night, the night of her transformation. The color and noise, the terrifying silence that followed. The blood. The pattern repeated in every kill she made since.

"Yes. And no." Sam looked off again. "The hunger is something that's a part of all wolves. It's what makes us such successful hunters, gives swiftness to our kills and honor to our battles. But it's not something that rules over us. It's a tool that makes it possible for us to survive."

Ashley started. A tool? Something like that? It couldn't be. Not for her at least. Not for her. She couldn't control it on the night she turned, she couldn't control it now. It was no tool for her, it was a curse.

"But what if I can't control it? I mean, God knows I've been trying. But what if I just can't?" Tears began to spill down her cheeks.

"You can." Sam flashed her a smile.

"But what if I can't?" Ashley was sobbing. "What if I never could? I'm not a born wolf like you and Josh and Chris, I can't do this! I can't control this…this hunger this animal! Sam I was a human! I had a life! And now I- I-"

Before she knew what was happening, Sam had pulled her into a hug. Ashley couldn't help herself, she broke. Before she knew it she was wailing, sobbing, crying harder than she had in months. Years. Her entire life maybe. She cried for her brother. The brother she killed. She cried for her mom, her dad. Who in one night had lost both a son and daughter. She cried for her friends, for her home, for her life, for herself. She cried for the wolf, the one she kicked that day so long ago. She cried for the hunger. The rage, the bloodlust. The instincts she followed blindly to the edge of the Earth, so far from home. She cried to think she could end it. She cried because she realized, since the day she turned she'd been running. She'd hidden her shame behind accusation, blaming the wolf, the hunger, the world, for her miseries. But in the end, all of it had been her. She cried for ever thinking it hadn't been.

Sam eventually pulled back, took her hand, told her everything would be fine.

For the first time in forever, Ashley agreed.

Across the room, in hushed conversation, Ashley heard Chris ask if she'd be alright.

"She will be." Sam nodded.

And she was.

Oo0oO

 **A/N:** Alternative title for this chapter is "An exploration in onomatopoeia". Well...not really. But given the amount I use you would think so.


	4. Feral

Oo0oO

 _Emily_

 _Fight._

The word appeared like an old echo in the back of her mind. _Fight because you know how_. Because fighting was the only thing any of them knew how to do. Before they knew how to hunt, pups knew how to fight. With teeth and nails and tooth and claw. In the brutally honest way only children of the moon knew.

 _Fight._

It came in the form of a growl, slipping past her lips even as she was pushed again to the ground. _Fight because you're good at it_. Because she always had been. She was better than all of them. They had a bad habit of underestimating her. Because she was small: frame thin, fur slick, better suited for night hunting then fighting. Because she was female: naturally weaker, in many senses of the word. Because she was a _bitch_. And no way someone with an attitude _that_ bad wasn't compensating for something.

 _Fight_

She shifted ever so slightly, feigning defeat, preparing for a strike. _Because you know what happens to the omega._ Because weakness wasn't just frowned upon in their pack. It was eliminated. The lucky ones had it trained out of them, were pushed to their breaking point time and time again until they no longer knew the meaning of the word pain. The rest were abandoned. Left to the snow to starve. Or the river to sink. She'd lost a brother to the latter.

 _Fight._

Emily coiled. _Because losing isn't an option._

In a flurry of movement, she twisted, her spine rolling under the weight of her opponent and setting him off balance. It gave Emily the opportunity she needed. Lunging upwards, she clamped her teeth around the wolf's neck. She bit down hard. Her opponent howled in agony. Emily didn't even flinch. In fact, she tightened her grip, sinking her teeth further and further into his flesh. Harder and harder, the smell of kindred blood filling her lungs and pooling over her jaw. And then, she stopped.

She didn't have to, not technically. But in pack battles, killing your opponent was usually considered poor sportsmanship. Usually. Delicately, Emily released her grip, allowing the wolf to slip from her grasp, where he hit the ground in a slump. He was alive, and would live. But only barely.

As he collapsed, a chorus of howls arose, a chant of victory in her honor. She couldn't bring herself to feel honored if she tried.

"Well done Em!" Tom, the 3rd rank, approached her cheerily, playfully bumping her side.

She tried her best to hide a grimace. She may have won, but that didn't mean her opponent had gone down without a fight. The "fight" would rear its head tomorrow as a set of new scars across her flank.

"You really knocked old Bruce down a peg huh?"

"Whatever." Emily brushed him off. On a normal day, such behavior might have warranted punishment, given their rank difference. But her victory had just moved Emily up to 4th rank, second sentinel. If there was ever a time to give Tom a piece of her mind, it was now.

Emily thought to make good on that, but was distracted as Thalia, 10th rank, moved onto the battlefield as well, toward the gasping Bruce. Thalia was their pack's medic, being the only one among them to receive formal training as a nurse in human society. She was the only one in the pack who didn't have to fight for position, permanently holding the rank just above omega. Somewhat bitterly, Emily also pondered if that didn't have something to do with the fact that she was the alpha's daughter.

"Bruce." Thalia rushed to his side, nosing his wound urgently.

He snapped once at her, more for his own pride then anything.

She seemed to disregard him, instead moving to inspect the wound. "This is bad." Her eyes flicked over the torn flesh, then over towards Emily. Emily ignored her. Thalia snorted, then turned her attention back to Bruce. "You'll live, but only if we get this treated soon."

Bruce only growled. Then, seeming to honor the medic's request, he began to rise, head lifting off the ground in a pained effort. Emily expected him to let Thalia take him. That's what they usually did, the defeated. If they could still speak, they'd usually call for a rematch as well.

Bruce, as usual, surprised her.

"Bitch." She heard him push the word past his throat. "Stone. Cold. Bitch."

He was talking to her. Of course. Unflinching, she turned to him. "Me?"

"Who else?" He wheezed out the words, moving to stand. "Thalia? Huh, at least she would have the dignity to not fight _dirty_."

"Hey." Tom moved to intervene. Emily ignored him, flaring her nostrils.

It wasn't the first time she'd heard her fighting style described that way. Dirty. Because it was. A standard fight was all front battles, barred teeth snap-snapping at exposed necks, front claws raised to swipe. A good battle would allow some solid tackles as well, rolling in the snow and dirt to see who came out on top. First one left belly up quickly becoming the loser. Emily learned early she couldn't win that way. Not often enough at least. She couldn't match the males in strength, couldn't beat them off as effectively in straightforward combat. So she fought dirty.

She went low early, always. Slipped in and out of their guard like moonlight through the trees. Sliced hard at their ankles with her claws, brought them down low. Bit once, twice maybe. Bit hard. A lot of older wolves tended to fight battles of attrition, wore their opponents down with courtesy swipes across the torso. She figured that was essentially taking it easy on them.

"Sorry if you don't like the way I fight." She snapped once at Bruce, testing him. Daring him. "Or is it just that you don't like losing to a _girl_?"

He growled, the hair on the back of his neck rising. He knew she was baiting him, he just couldn't help falling for it. Emily readied herself for his attack.

"Enough!" The voice cracked through the clearing like a gunshot. In an instant, the woods fell silent, all pretenses of a second fight dropping in a heartbeat.

 _He_ entered the battlefield like a general. Ears up, tail high, a scowl plastered across his jagged teeth. Varick, 1st rank, pack alpha. Beside him, his wife, the beta.

Emily felt them approach more than saw them. They came quick and silent, like a shadow over the moon. The pack retreated as they passed, a half-cower half-bow to wave them through. Some of it was for respect. Most was for fear.

The pair stopped between Emily and Bruce. The alpha looked slowly, deliberately between each side, his teeth flashed like a challenge.

"Bruce." The name slid off his tongue like an insult. "You've made your point, if you know what's good for you'll stand down."

The injured 5th rank retreated slightly. "But sir I-"

"Quiet!" Bruce was silenced with a sharp growl from the alpha. "You are in _no_ place to be making arguments right now. You lost, try to accept your defeat with at least a sliver of pride."

Bruce shifted, clearly looking like he had more to say.

Varick, catching this, took a step in his direction. "Still looking for a fight?" A wicked smile spread across his face. "If you're so inclined I'd be more than happy to take you on myself."

Bruce didn't meet his eyes.

Varick's expression darkened. "That's what I thought." He made to turn. Before he got through the motion however, he stepped hard to the side, and right into Bruce. The 5th rank went reeling, gasping in pain from his still-open wound. Medic though she was, Thalia had just enough sense not to rush to him.

Slowly, the alpha turned back to Emily, who stood her ground. She knew enough not to directly meet his gaze.

"Good work. I expect a lot more from you." He leaned in. On instinct, she bared her neck. " _Don't disappoint_."

Oo0oO

She didn't.

After all, fighting was the one thing she was good at. The only thing.

That's what they all said, if begrudgingly. She was a bitch, but she could _fight_. Better than the beta even. Though that was a rumor among the lower ranks. The ones with nothing to lose. The ones who would get beaten regardless of whether or not they kept their mouths shut. Rumor had it she was to _be_ the next beta. Tom the next alpha. She almost liked the idea. Almost.

Oo0oO

 _Fight_.

It was their creed. _Fight because you know how._ But knowing wasn't reason. It was an ability. A means.

 _Fight_.

It was all they knew, what they were taught from birth. _Fight because you're good at it_. She was. But that didn't mean she had to. Just that she could.

 _Fight_.

It wasn't up for debate. _Because you know what happens to the omega._ But she also knew what happened to 9th, 8th, 7th rank. Not being last didn't make you safe. It just saved you a few scars.

 _Fight_.

She had to. _Because losing isn't an option._ But running was.

And that's what she did. In the dead of night, she slipped out, past their farthest perimeter, darting between trees like a shadow. Gone like a whisper on the wind. No note. No warning. It was safer that way. After all, Varick would send someone to chase her, when he found out. The punishment he'd issue himself. All she had to do was make it far enough.

And she did. By the time she left the valley, any of Varick's pursuers would be far too late. But it wasn't anyone Varick sent who stopped her in her tracks.

"Emily." He said her name like a plea.

She felt herself stop cold. Slowly, she turned back, knowing who she would find even before she completed the motion. "Tom."

So she hadn't been crazy. The shadows across the underbrush had been his.

"A little far from the usual hunting grounds, huh?" He shifted his weight between his front two paws.

"Tom." Emily flared her nostrils at him. "You know as well as I do that I'm not hunting."

"Just a run then." He took a step toward her, his voice strained with a feeble sort of hope. "Getting some fresh air."

" _Tom_."

He sunk a little. Feeling the weight of a truth he wasn't keen to accept. "You're leaving."

She nodded.

"Heh." Tom scraped a paw against the ground. "I thought so."

Emily saw where this was going. She sighed. "I've already made up my mind, you're not going to talk me out of it."

Tom frowned. "But I can't let you leave."

Emily started. "You're going to try to stop me?"

For a moment, he looked uncertain. It was the sort of hesitation the alpha would have punished him for. "The pack needs you."

"But I don't need _the pack_." Emily growled. She didn't, that she knew with certainty. And whatever lay waiting for her in the woods couldn't be any worse then what she left behind in that valley.

"You think you can make it alone out there?" He motioned out into the woods with his muzzle. "Emily, without a pack? You'll die."

"You think I can't handle myself." Her snarl deepened. She'd expected this resistance. But it was starting to feel like a betrayal.

"Emily, don't be unreasonable. You're better off with the pack. I _know_ it." Tom insisted.

She felt a tremble pass through her. "Then you don't _know_ me!"

"Emily." He retreated slightly. The hurt in his voice was clear.

But she didn't care. "I'm leaving." She turned her back to him, made to run.

He was fast, Tom always had been. He moved around to block her before she had a chance. "I won't let you."

Emily felt her throat catch. A pain like betrayal. Like heartbreak. "So you'll fight me?"

He did.

Oo0oO

It was over almost as quickly as it started. After all, only one of them was fighting to kill.

Oo0oO

 _Fight_.

Because they gave her no other choice. Maybe it was something in her blood, some part of the valley that never let go of her. But the fight followed. No matter where she went, no matter who she met in passing, it all ended the same way. With barred teeth and flashing claws. In blood.

The packs wouldn't have her. She was too wild, too feral for them. And the ones willing to accept her nature were too wild for her. She didn't mind fighting for her rank, it was second nature to her at this point. But she was done spilling kindred blood. Done killing for someone else's agenda. Any battles she fought from then on out were own.

And she'd done her fair share of fighting. Packs, loners, anyone who looked at her wrong, or even looked at her at all.

No, that wasn't entirely true. Although that's what'd she tell anyone she was trying to intimidate. Emily would have loved to cast herself as the stoic loner, one of the packless wanderers of the northern mountains. But that wasn't her, it never had been.

Her pack's concerns were, as she predicted, were mostly unfounded. Survival proved second nature to her, she was as good of a hunter as she was a fighter. The danger, too was nothing, she could almost always fight her way out, and outrun anything else. But it wasn't starvation, or the danger she had to fear. It was being alone.

This, Emily realized soon after she'd left her pack. Being alone did something to her, put her on edge. It was easier to set her off, harder to calm her back down. It was part of the reason she'd been in so many fights. Without someone to keep her in check she was a storm, a hurricane inside a girl's body. It didn't matter who got caught up in the destruction. Just so long as someone did.

So, despite herself, Emily tried to spend as much time in packs as she could. Let them keep her in check. She tried to fake nice for them, or fake cruelty. Whatever they wanted, whatever they needed to make her stay. But she always ended up the same way. Angry. Fresh from a fight. Alone.

Oo0oO

For months Emily drifted. By chance, she ended up with a younger pack. Kids like herself, born wolves and turned alike. Remnants of dissolved packs and strays sick of facing the wilds alone. And, of all things, female-led. When she first got wind of it, she thought it was a joke. She actually laughed when she was invited to join, an offer issued by a flirty lower-rank with patchy brown fur.

"C'mon, I'm sure you're tired of wandering these woods alone." The wolf in question, Matt, pressed her.

"Better alone than with a group of children." She snorted. From what she heard, she actually would have been the oldest as well.

If nothing else, he was persistent. "What have you got to lose?"

That was the thing, she didn't. And while she countered his pleas as best she could, he wore her down.

Oo0oO

 _Fight_.

For the first time, she didn't have to.

"Where would you have me rank?"

"Rank?" Sam, the alpha, looked confused when Emily asked.

"You know, rank. Like alpha, beta, omega sorta thing?" There was no way she didn't know.

"Beyond immediate chain of command we play it pretty loosely." Sam, leaning against a couch in human form, shrugged. "Besides, you just got here, don't you think we should wait a bit?"

"Wait?" Emily was almost offended. "There's no need to wait. If it's a question of skill I'm fine now, I'll have no problem. But you have to test me first."

"You have something to prove?" Mike, the beta, chimed in. He'd been hovering ever since she got there, the whole time with a horrendous smug across his face.

"Of Course!" Didn't they? They were wolves after all, this was a pack. And in a pack, the pecking order is everything.

Emily felt herself come dangerously close to changing back into wolf form. _No, No. Not here. If you can't control yourself they'll kick you out. And it's too early, too early…_

Sam frowned, seeming to notice her change. Without taking her eyes off Emily, she spoke. "Mike leave."

"What?"

Sam shot him a look. Sensing she was serious, he backed off.

Emily eyed the alpha suspiciously.

Sam was steady. Almost unnervingly. "You want to know your ranking?"

Sensing a shift in the air, Emily nodded.

"4th rank, of 7 total. Second sentinel. Just below Chris." She indicated toward the blonde with her eyes. He was gushing over some redhead in the corner of the lodge.

Emily felt a prickle in her skin. "But you haven't seen me fight-"

"Don't need to."

Emily stopped. "What?"

"I said I don't need to."

"Then how do you know I'm 4th rank?" Emily snarled. Sam hadn't seen her fight, hadn't seen her hunt. Besides the invitation and brief introductions, there'd been no assessment, no test beyond casual questions about her past. How did Sam know she wasn't better than Chris? Better than Mike? Better than her? Or even worse? There was no way Sam could tell at a glance. And, people had always had a bad habit of underestimating her.

"You think I need to see you fight to rank you?" Sam raised an eyebrow. Then, calmly, she shook her head. "Your rank isn't about how well you fight, how well you hunt. It's not about strength, intelligence, anything that makes you better than anyone else. It's about your ability to look out for the pack. For how well you assume command of yourself and others. It's about your ability to make sacrifices, not how well but how whole-heartedly you'll fight for your alpha as equally as your own beta.

I don't need to see your aggression, or how well you can track prey through a snowstorm. All I need to know is how willing you are to stand for this pack."

"But it's not even mine! Not really."

"Not _yet_." Sam corrected her. "But I have a feeling it will be. If you let it."

Oo0oO

 _Fight_.

Sam never asked her to. Not alone anyways. And never against anyone else in the pack.

 _Fight_.

The urge didn't go away. And Emily would have plenty more when Jess arrived barely 2 weeks later. But now she was fighting for things she believed in. For people she cared for.

 _Fight_.

If it came down to it, she could outmaneuver Chris. Use his size against him, weave her way through his defenses and claim victory in a fight. She was less certain against Mike and Sam.

But the thing is, she didn't want to. Fight them. The clan needed them, Sam especially. _Emily,_ needed them. All of them.

 _Fight_.

Because she knew how. Because she was good at it. Because she could.

Because she had something worth protecting.

Oo0oO

 **A/N:** So I cheated a little bit with the pack dynamics in this chapter but I'll write it off as Sam having a different point of view on how pack ranking works. Listen I just want them all to be a nice happy wolf family is that too much to ask.

Thanks for sticking around! Expect the next chapter soon(ish)? Yay!


	5. Run

Oo0oO

 _Matt_

 _Know your place._

Three words muttered in hot breaths down the back of his neck for as long as he could remember.

 _Know your place._

Or else we'll remind you. And God how they loved reminders.

 _Know your place._

As if he could forget.

 _Know your place._ That is, under his father. Under his rules, under his roof, under his thumb. Always under.

Matt was nothing like his father. His father was a forthright, booming sort. The sort that knew what he wanted out of life and wouldn't rest until he got it. Quick to anger and slow to violence, a man to which life itself was a challenge for him to best.

But Matt never liked challenges, confrontation. He was patient, analytical. Maybe a little easily frustrated, but still. Nothing like his father. When he was young he swore he never would be.

But in a family of four, Matt was the oldest kid, the only son. So whether or not he liked it, he was going to be. That's what his father said. Because he'd be _dammed_ if he didn't raise Matt the _right_ way. That is, confident, demanding, dominant. Just like him.

It didn't matter to his father one bit that Matt wasn't any of those things.

 _Bite your tongue boy._ He heard that one all too often. _Your father will make a man of you yet._ Matt had been under the impression that he _was_ a man. But he guessed not. At least, not until his father said so. Because his father was always right.

Except when he wasn't.

 _Bite your tongue boy._ If he didn't she'd wash it out with soap. Or at least threaten to. For all her bellicose, his mother hardly made good on her threats. Maybe part of her still saw the child in Matt. The innocence. The kindness. The _obedience_.

Matt had been shyer as a kid. Quiet, reserved, still clever but more school-focused. Less likely to step out of line. More the perfect son his parents always wanted him to be. Such a disappointment for the both of them that Matt eventually grew up.

When he did, he did so tall and lanky, hesitant and bitter. Snarky but cowardly. All bark and no bite.

His father reckoned he could straighten the boy out if he kept pushing hard enough. After all, that's what his father had done to him. And look how _he_ had turned out.

His mother agreed. And so it was.

Oo0oO

 _Know your place._

Still a boy, soon to be a man. His father was there to make sure he became the _right_ kind.

"Eat!" Matt still remembered the way the table shook as it collided with his father's fist. The way the silverware would tremble and glasses rattle. "You won't get any bigger unless you _eat_."

"But Dad I'm full!" Matt felt the protests push past his lips in uncertain squeaks.

"I don't care. You're not leaving the table until you eat it."

And he did, eventually.

Nevermind that he'd sneak off to the bathroom and throw it back up again when his father wasn't looking.

Lily knew. Of course. Lily knew everything.

Lily, his sister. The clever one.

For years she watched him play his tricks: sneak comic books under his notes, take shortcuts in his daily runs, shovel stones into his pockets for the nights their dad weighed him. For years she watched. And she didn't say a word.

Better, she covered for him. Lily was the one who taught him to hide the comics in the sleeves of his textbooks, showed him what paths got him home fastest, pushed stones through the bathroom window while their dad went for the scale. She covered for him. And she didn't say a word.

Not that their parents would ever believe her anyways.

For all her merits, Lily would never be the perfect daughter, in the same way that Matt would never be the perfect son. It didn't matter how clever she was, how many scholar awards and athletics trophies she won. Until her second X changed into a Y, their father would hardly even look at her. It was all about Matt. Or, "Matthew" when his father got angry.

Matt ended up hearing his birth name a lot.

"Go to your room, Matthew." That was one his father liked a lot. Especially after Matt got snarky again. Which was often. Joke was on his father, he preferred his room.

The joke got better when Matt first decided to sneak out.

Oo0oO

He started at 15. He left because he could, no reason otherwise. His bedroom window faced the street after all. All he had to do was pop out the screen and he was free. Free to leave. Free to go. Go where, he wasn't sure. The first few outings the fear of his father discovering him kept him from really _going_ anywhere at all.

But of course, it was Lily who figured it out first. And she covered for him. Like always.

Matt always figured he should thank her properly. Two years younger and a far better sibling to him than he had ever been to her. He half-wondered if this was her own way of rebelling. At least if she got caught their father would finally look at her.

Under her watch, Matt stole away. Night after night.

His circle was small at first, just the few blocks around his house. Eventually it got wider, and wider, and wider still. Eventually the whole city was at his disposal. But even then it wasn't big enough. Even then Matt couldn't escape the overwhelming feeling that something was…missing.

And then he met Charlie.

Charlie was a drifter. Scrubby black hair, dark skin, mouth working a day-old smirk. Traveled around with some buddies he'd met a while back, romping from town to town without any real direction in life. Charlie had no rules to live by. No stupid persona he had to fill, no expectations. Charlie was his own man. And everything Matt wanted to be.

It wasn't long before Matt snuck out _to see Charlie_ , versus merely sneaking out. Under his wing Matt got in all kinds of trouble. The best kind. The careful kind. Just careful enough not to get arrested. Just careful enough to fulfill Matt's need for teenage rebellion. Just enough to make him feel free.

Months passed like this. Matt's days went by as usual, faking the role of the perfect son. His nights passed leaving skidmarks across the town he grew up in. The town he couldn't wait to leave.

When Charlie and the others told Matt they wanted to talk to him, that's what he figured it was about. Them leaving. Them taking him with them. Away from his father and mother and all their damn expectations. It didn't even matter to him when he got the werewolf speech instead.

"Cool." Matt meant it. Sort of. If that's what it took. If that's _all_ it took.

Charlie seemed uncomfortable. He explained again, like there was something Matt was missing about it all. But he got it alright. What wasn't there to understand about being half wolf? If they turned him they'd take him with them. Make him part of their "wolf pack", or whatever. All that mattered was that he would leave.

Still, they hesitated. "What about your family?"

"Who cares?" Matt didn't, that was for sure. All they cared about was the person they wanted him to be. Charlie was willing to accept him as he was. Or, as he was once turned.

"What about your sister? That, uh, Lily girl?" Charlie scraped the ground with his boot.

 _What about her?_

He told them she'd be fine. In his head he thought he'd come back for her. Someday. Someday years past. Someday after his parents finally forgot him. Someday. Or maybe not at all. After all, all she wanted was their parents' to love her. What better way than to make her an only.

"She's fine."

 _So change me. So take me away._

And they did.

Oo0oO

 _Know your place._

He thought he left it all behind. The expectations. The rules. Everything. He was so sick of always being _under._ Being a _less than_. Matt thought he was done. He wasn't.

Because he wasn't part of _a pack_. It was _Charlie's pack_. Charlie called the shots, all of them. And what he said went, no matter what.

In many ways, Charlie was nothing like his father. Charlie was a prankster. Had a good sense of humor. Drank recreationally, but somehow still responsibly. He was clever. Cared about the people in his group. He was, overall a good man. Nothing like Matt's father.

But then again, he was. Confident. Demanding. Dominant. Everything Matt's father had wanted of him. Everything that Matt wasn't. Everything that made Charlie the alpha and Matt _not_.

Matt thought he could leave it all behind. 16 years old and traveling aimlessly across the country. It was every kid's dream.

Except it wasn't. Not anymore.

Because the pack was all about rank. About the picking order. The strongest, the most dominant ate first. Led the group. Got the best of everything. Then came the beta. Then each rank, down the line. Charlie's group was small, only 5 including Matt. And Matt was the last, the lowest rank. In wolf terms, the omega.

 _Not really_. They assured him. It was for formalities mostly, just sort of the way wolf packs are meant to be structured. They laughed about it like it didn't mean anything. But it did. At every meal Matt was the last to eat, had the smallest voice in discussion, got the worst jobs. Matt told himself it was just because he was young. But he knew it wasn't. It all came down to everything he wasn't, everything he couldn't be. Everything he never would be.

One night, he panicked. One night he left.

Oo0oO

 _Know your place_.

He couldn't go home. Not anymore. Not now that he was half something else. Half wild. Half beast. Actually, the wolf part probably wouldn't even bother them that much. At least they'd see him for something more than a screwup that way. But still, Matt couldn't face them. His place was the forest. Amongst his own kind. In a pack.

Matt told himself it would be different. That different alphas would treat their own better. That there were packs out there who cared less about rank, about picking order. He was wrong. In fact, in most places it was worse.

He wasn't always the omega. Actually, most of the time he wasn't. But Matt was always ranked low. Sometimes it was his personality, his presence that was off. Sometimes it was his youth. His smallish-stature. His mottled brown fur. Quite often it was the fact that he was _turned_ as opposed to being born half-wolf. But it was always something.

For a while he gave up. Went to live among humans, tried getting a job and making a life for himself. He was light years from home at this point, at the very least getting recognized wasn't something he had to worry about. But it never felt right.

Maybe it was the wolf in him. But Matt needed people. He needed a _pack_. He was greedy enough to hope for a family.

What he got was a couple of strays.

Just two. A she-wolf and a male. Sam, and Josh.

Their difference in rank was hilariously apparent. Stuck in a regular pack Josh would have _easily_ made omega, even more so then Matt. But Sam was something else. Sam, absurd as it was, was an alpha.

By all intents and purposes, she shouldn't have been. That was actually one of the first things he said to her. You can't be an alpha. _Not really._

Because it didn't happen. Female betas Matt had seen plenty of, after all the alpha-beta relationship in a wolf pack seemed exceedingly common. But female alphas much less so. After all, so much of the pack dynamics relied upon difference in strength, in dominance. Traits stressed more often in males. This not even factoring in the wonder plain old misogyny did to keep females out of upper ranks.

It went almost everything he'd seen. Everything he was taught by his father. Everything even Charlie alluded to. Matt couldn't help it, it _bothered_ him.

Sam was unfazed. In fact, she laughed it off.

"I get that a lot."

Like it was no big deal. Like it was just _that_ natural to her. Josh seemed of similar mind, cracking a joke about it almost off-handedly.

Matt couldn't help it, it sort of bothered him. But at that point, he had nowhere else to go. So he stayed.

Oo0oO

 _Know your place_.

Always under. Now, under Sam. For a long while it bothered him. Even as others joined them, Matt couldn't entirely shake his discontent.

He knew it wasn't just him. When Chris first joined he laughed at it all. But he consented. He ended up Sam's second, although when lined side by side he towered over her. Somehow Matt was still the only one really bothered by it.

Even when Ashley fell into their group, nothing changed. In fact, Ashley, turned like himself, hardly even questioned Sam's rule.

"Why should I?" She shrugged. "I mean, Sam's the alpha, isn't she?"

So they told him, over and over. Not that it became any easier to sit with.

It was when Mike joined that Matt expected real change. Mike was massive, both in wolf form and human form. He was confident, straight-forward, bold. Even without trying, he had a presence about him that _demanded_ to be felt. Surely, he would best her. Surely he would be the one to put Sam in her place.

But he didn't. Matt saw his hesitation, surely. But he overcame it. He took the role of beta almost without dispute. Matt didn't understand it.

More than that, he couldn't stand it.

"Why do you listen to her?" Matt stopped Mike one day when he couldn't take it anymore. "Why do you bare your neck to her like she's so above you? You realize you can _be_ her?" Matt had seen all the dominance in Mike. Felt it when he first came into the pack. A flood of power and pride so overwhelming it threatened to drown him. If he had the power, why hesitate, even for a moment?

That was the lesson he'd learned from his father after all. That power belonged to the strong, the bold, the daring. That they deserved authority _because_ of their strength. On that much, Matt agreed with his dad. His father's only mistake was thinking he could train that authority into Matt.

Seeing Mike yield to her felt like an insult. If he had the power, why hold back?

"But I don't need to." Mike stood his ground. "I don't want to."

"Why not? If you think you can best her, why even hesitate?"

"Because the pack needs her right where she is. As our alpha. _I_ _need her_. Right where she is." Mike snapped back at him.

"But you don't."

"Oh yeah?" Mike raised an eyebrow. "And what do you know about me?"

"That if you fight her you could win. That everyone else here senses your power and _respects_ it." Matt couldn't fathom what the beta wasn't getting at. "If you wanted to you can take over, I've seen it happen in other wolf packs. Why don't you even want to try?"

"Because power isn't everything." Mike barred his teeth. "And you, me, this pack, _needs_ Sam as our alpha. More than you could imagine." He seemed to remember something for a moment. Then, seeing Matt move to submit, he backed off. "Besides. In terms of power, dominance, all that? You're dead wrong if you think Sam isn't holding back."

Conversation over. Just like that.

Oo0oO

 _Know your place._

Under. Always under. But what did it mean to be under someone?

Different packs seemed to think it meant different things. Some seemed to think it was all about serving the alpha, carrying out their will unquestioning and bowing to their dominance. Some thought it was about hunting, fighting, defending the newer generations and seeking future prosperity of the pack as a whole. Still others thought it was simply about being under, being the blunt object put in front of pack leaders to protect them, the _actual_ important ones.

Matt's dad would argue it was simply about serving, about a life dedicated to supporting the alpha in all their endeavors. After all, a truly great leader doesn't simply demand respect, they deserve it. Confidence, brashness, even dominance only takes one so far, after all. A true leader, an alpha, is one worth following.

And Matt saw how Sam treated those under her. Like they weren't under at all. Like they were friends. No, like they were family. He saw everything she did for the pack. And for the first time, he understood.

Matt was nothing like his father. But for once, he was pretty sure he agreed with him.

Oo0oO

 **A/N:** Damn. Now I actually sort of care about Matt.

Thank you all so much for the support. Part 6 will be in the works shortly, much to the delight of chaosofabutterfly. Hope to see you there!


	6. Strength

Oo0oO

 _Mike_

He had to be strong.

Strength was the way of the wolf, the way of the pack. The strong lead the weak. Guided the pack to victory. Kept them safe. Kept them _strong_.

 _A chain is only as strong as its weakest link._ It was an old saying favorited by his mother. _And so the pack is only as strong as its weakest wolf._

The first promise Mike ever made was in response to his mother. _Then I'll promise I'll be strong. For the pack._

She chuckled. Mike had been something close to 5 at the time, she had every reason to doubt him. Still, like any good mother, she relented. _Of course you will. For the pack!_

And he was.

It seemed an easy promise to keep, at least at first. In the beginning, there was six of them: Sten, Tasia, Piper, his mother, father, and him. Sten, his uncle, was the alpha, brave and true. Tasia, his aunt, was the beta, wife to Sten and sister to Mike's father. Piper was a former stray taken in by Tasia before Mike was born. And then there were his parents, and then there was him. The runt, at least at first.

Mike didn't mind. He had his whole life to catch up to Piper, to Tasia, to Sten. And until then, he had them. His family.

He was happy. _They_ were happy, the six of them. Together, they were strong. Just the six of them versus the world.

And then the world changed.

Oo0oO

 _Strength was the way of the wolf._

It was simple really. Something he'd known since birth.

 _And those not strong enough were unfit to lead._

The six of them versus the world. The world, in most cases, was the other packs, three of them haunting territories just outside their hometown. Kyle's to the east, Mauriel's to the south, and Eldridge's to the north. Sten, Kyle, Mauriel, and Elridge. Between the four of them, they held a shaky peace for something close to 20 years.

That is, until someone took it too far.

Mike was 10 when it happened. When someone crossed the line. He couldn't remember how it started. And he chose to forget the middle. When they lost Tasia. But when it ended, only two packs held the region. Mauriel's and Sten's. Kyle's pack fell to Mauriel. And Elridge to Sten. So 4 became 2.

Such was the way of the pack. It was a rule as old as the wolves themselves, a remnant of a lost age of infighting and warfare. But so it was: a challenge against an alpha is a challenge for the pack.

Within a single band of wolves, such fighting is common, encouraged. It keeps the ranks in check, assures the alpha is always the strongest, the most fit to lead. A fight involving outsiders is a different story altogether.

Should a stray challenge an alpha, things get quickly get bloody. After all, strays fight with nothing to lose, everything to gain. Alphas fight as much for their honor as for their pack. A victory on either side nears a death sentence. Should the alpha win, the challenger is typically exiled from pack territory, under threat of death should they return. Though more bloodthirsty alphas carry out their promise immediately. Should the stray win, they are left no such choice. The only way to seal their victory is in blood.

Yet no challenge is more serious than that between two alphas. Both are skilled fighters, the strongest in their pack and natural leaders. Both battle holding nothing back; each out for blood. To lose means certain death. And to the winner goes the loser's pack. Every last wolf. Such is the way of the pack, the way of the wolf. The weak follow the strong.

And so 6 became 14.

Sten killed Elridge, and they gained his pack. There were dissenters, of course, amongst the remains of both Elrdige and Kyle's packs. Not everyone was willing to go down without a fight. Sten got lucky, and managed to silence them without any further bloodshed. Mauriel did not, losing one of her own daughters before she quelled the infighting. But so still it goes. The weak follow the strong.

And quite suddenly Mike wasn't the weakest anymore.

10 years old.

And he saw the world he knew fall apart before coming back together again.

10 years old.

And there was only one way to stop it from happening again.

Oo0oO

 _He had to be strong._

Like Sten. Like his father, now the beta. He had to be stronger. Stronger than both of them. For the next time a pack tried to settle the area. In case Mauriel decided peace wasn't to her liking. He had to be stronger. The strongest.

From the moment he could hunt Mike had his heart set on alpha. And why shouldn't he? Between his training and own fortune with genes, he was bigger than all the others in his pack. Stronger too. Towering in human form, massive as a wolf. Piercing yellow eyes and thick black fur. Almost more beast than wolf. Almost something terrifying.

Ever since that day it was all Mike wanted, to be strong. Everyone in his pack was convinced he would so become. Even Sten.

He took it as a point of pride, old Sten. "My own nephew." He used to say, through that toothy grin of his. "Keep it up and you'll surpass even me someday."

That was the plan. By the time Mike was 18 he'd made 4th rank. In a pack of his size, with as many adult wolves, it was practically unheard of.

But there was something about him that just sang of strength, of dominance. A power, almost tangible, radiating from every fiber of his being. A strength of will and courage pushing him to be more than he was. He felt it pumping through his veins, carved in his bones. It was written all over him, a title like a destiny.

 _Alpha._

Oo0oO

Mike was 18 when he made 4th rank. So close. So, tantalizingly close. To all he ever wanted. Everything he worked for since he was 5. He could have taken it.

It was all he ever wanted. To be strong. To be the alpha.

But then, somehow it wasn't.

Because even if he did take Sten's place as alpha, would the pack even accept him? He had strength, sure, but was that enough? Suddenly he wasn't so sure. Look what happened to Mauriel. For all her strength she lost her own daughter to infighting. Who's to say he might not lose Piper, or his mother, or even his father?

And then it wasn't just the risks. It was the pack. 14 strong, the remnants of Elridge's pack mixed with his own. Say they accepted him, would they follow? 9 once had followed Elridge, and 13 now followed Sten. Why would they follow him?

The purpose of the strong was to lead the weak. To guide them to victory. To keep them safe. But without any willing to follow, what need was there for all his strength?

None. Mike saw quite clearly.

This was Sten's pack. If he wanted to lead so badly, he'd have to find his own.

Oo0oO

Mike didn't dare list his ambition as a reason for leaving. He told them he'd leave to find himself. To discover who he was outside of the pack, to move on with his life and become his own person. He was 18, after all. It seemed a fitting speech. His family, his pack, believed him. Or wanted to at least. Most of them supported it. And just like that, they let him go.

Mike might have felt bad at first, lying to them. Concealing that it was strength and not self-discovery he was chasing. He would end up finding both.

That was the thing about the wilds. They have a way of proving you wrong.

Because out there was nothing like the packs. There were no rules, no borders, no hunting grounds to be laid claim to. Everything to be claimed had long ago been conquered by the forests. And the woods had only one rule. _Do whatever it takes to survive._

And he would. And he did.

For months Mike wandered, following the footsteps of other wanderers, seeking the kinship of his own kind like a quiet desperation. Or…no. Was it kinship? Or still the hunger, the need for strength that had propelled him forward most of his life? Something between them, Mike rationed. Perhaps a little of both.

Inevitably, he found himself amongst other half-wolves. Packs on the outskirts of society, those still bound in blood to the trees and the rivers like Sten's. They welcomed him with open arms. Or so he thought. Mike found out later, he didn't give them much of a choice.

Because still the stench of the alpha clung to him. Like a blessing, like a curse. A power and dominance undeniable by any who stood in its wake. Something in his stature, in his growl, in his gaze. He didn't know what it was exactly. But it was there. And everyone knew it.

The younger, weaker wolves feared it. He could tell, it was written all over their faces. The older, the alphas and other higher ranks, seemed angered by it. They took it like a challenge.

Inevitably, Mike found himself fighting. Usually alphas, high-ranking wolves. They took his mere presence as a challenge for the pack. Winner-take-all. Life included. But Mike found out pretty quickly, he didn't want it. Their packs. Their lives. Maybe he was supposed to. After all, a part of him liked the fear he put in their hearts. He liked the submission, their faith in his strength, their will to follow. But somehow, it never felt right to him. Not really.

He was strong, stronger than most. That no one could deny. But what was strength without something to fight for?

Oo0oO

Mike thought he might give it up. Return to his old pack, his family, settle. He didn't need to make beta, alpha. He didn't need a pack of his own. At least with Sten's pack he had something to fight for. Someone to fight for. That was another thing about the woods, they have a way of reminding you of what it means to be alone.

Mike couldn't lie to himself, he missed them, his pack. He missed being a part of something that mattered. Maybe, he thought, maybe if he turned back he'd still have a chance of replacing old Sten. Maybe Piper had waited for him, like they always promised when they were kids. Maybe he was never meant to leave after all.

He came close. Another week maybe, and he might have done it.

Instead, he found _them_.

He stumbled upon them by accident; a hunting party on the edge of the mountains. Couple of pack kids, all around his age. Two lower-ranking males with dark fur and one higher with blonde.

It was nearing evening, Mike had been looking for a place to lay low overnight. The last thing he wanted was another fight.

They froze when they saw him. Like they'd just been caught lie. Or maybe a trap. It was a reaction Mike became all too familiar with. That is, fear.

Mike fell silent as they barred their teeth, tails raised in all manner of false confidence. He'd just got out of a pretty bad scrap with a pack a ways north. A fight now wouldn't go well for either of them.

As best he couldn't, he drew back, gave them their opening. He'd let them form their own impressions.

They recovered quickly, as wolves are prone to. Took his silence for submission. They approached him slowly. Like at any moment he might lash out, go for their necks. He could sense their hesitation like a shiver in the wind. For their sakes, Mike pretended to ignore it.

He could feel them sizing him up, eyes catching on his teeth, his claws, his stature. Everything that made him strong. Everything that made him dangerous. Only when they affirmed his submission did they gain confidence, their growls softly abating. They quickly exchanged glances.

After a beat, the blonde stepped forward. Mike could sense his pride, his strength. Not near his own, but impressive still. Their beta? Maybe. Mike held his ground.

"What do you want?" The blonde demanded. As if Mike had confronted them. Their uneasiness was clear.

"I'm just passing through." Mike shot him what was meant to be an appeasing gesture. Tried on something close to a smile. It didn't seem to work.

"Heading where?"

"Nowhere. West, I guess. Just…passing."

The blonde narrowed his eyes. The other two exchanged a glance. They didn't trust him.

Mike shifted his weight back and forth between his front paws.

This wasn't good. He didn't want to fight them. He _really_ didn't want to fight them. He could, of course. And he'd win. He always won these days. But they were just kids. And Mike hated fighting kids. Kids fought honest, fast, quick, with nothing to lose. He fought like a demon.

"Listen, hey, just let me through and I'll be out of your hair." Mike tried bargaining. Suddenly he felt antsy.

The blonde hesitated. Meanwhile, behind him, the blackish-brown wolf shifted. "We should bring him to Sam. See what she wants to do with him."

"But he hasn't done anything." The smaller, black wolf, seemed uncomfortable. "Has he?"

"No, I haven't." Mike insisted, taking a step forward. The blonde barred his teeth.

"Even so, I don't like the look of him." The brown-black wolf rattled.

The blonde agreed. Then, after a moment, he let out a low growl. "He smells like blood."

The others' ears pricked up. Mike felt his stomach drop.

"You don't think he was with the group that attacked Ash?" The black wolf glanced him over nervously.

"Maybe. We never did find their alpha."

They thought he was a pack wolf. Mike wasn't surprised, this wasn't the first time something like this had happened. Still, he tried to plead his case. He promised he'd be gone by nightfall, wouldn't stir up trouble, all the usual excuses. They didn't buy it.

Mike shifted his feet. He didn't want to fight them. He _really_ didn't want to fight them. But something told him running might make it worse.

So he didn't.

"Josh, tell Sam what's going on." The blonde barked at the smaller wolf. "You," He locked eyes with Mike. "Come with us."

Oo0oO

His arrival went unannounced. Then again, every one of them knew the moment he entered the room. Mike couldn't help it, all his strength, his dominance; he had a way of announcing himself.

He could feel their eyes on him as he sauntered in. Or, he tried sauntering, he figured it came off more of a prowl. Thought his awkward smile was something more of a snarl.

After all, there was only one reason someone like _him_ would be here. Someone like _that_.

It was dead silent, save for the soft drumming of heartbeats, the pulse of quickened breath. The air was thick with tension. A near-explosive fear. A fight about to break like a struck match. Mike swallowed hard.

5 half-wolves, and him. Marched in like hanged man for a crime he knew nothing about. 5 half-wolves, him included. And then, in the center of it all, was her.

There was no fire in her, but likewise no shiver. Not a breadth of hesitation or excitement. She didn't meet his gaze like a challenge. She met his gaze like she'd already fought the battle.

Their alpha, Mike could be certain. Sam.

They brought him to a stop before her.

"Josh fill you in?" The blonde, now in human form, addressed her.

"He did." Her tone was decidedly neutral. "Said you found him out near the bend."

"Right." The blonde reported.

"Hunting?"

"Passing through." Mike tried again to make his defense. He was silenced by a sharp look from her beta.

Sam furrowed her brows. "You think he's one of the ones from the last attack?"

"Could be. They've been all around our borderers for days now. Maybe one got too curious."

"Or maybe we're all just a bit antsy." Sam exhaled.

"Antsy?" He seemed almost offended. "Don't you smell the blood on him? If he had anything to do with what happened to Ash…"

Sam frowned. She wasn't buying it. Still, almost humoring the blonde, she turned her attention. "Ash?" She glanced at a redhead near the far corner of the room. "Recognize him?"

The red-head, Ashley, flinched. "N-no I don't think so. I would have remembered…" She trailed off.

 _Someone like him._ Mike shifted uncomfortably. _Right_.

"Didn't think so." Sam reaffirmed. "Besides, Chris, you said all the attackers were females didn't you?"

"I-I did." The beta stumbled.

"So that settles it." She glanced around the room, like looking for objections. Then, hearing none, she turned her attention to him. "Sorry about all this. Things have been…a little tense around here lately."

"I…no worries." Mike didn't know what to say.

"You'll have to forgive Chris, after what happened to Ash we're…playing it safe."

 _Safe_. "I understand." And he did. He really did.

She smiled. Warmly. Like she meant it. "What's your name?"

"Err, Mike." He reached out a hand almost before he could stop himself.

"Sam." She shook it. Her grip was firm, like his.

He could feel the eyes of her pack on him. Could sense their fear. Like he might transform and go for her throat. Like he might be lying, have had something to do with that pack after all.

If she noticed, she ignored it.

"Mike." She released his hand. "Nice to meet you."

Oo0oO

 _He had to be strong._

Like Sam, like her pack.

The offer didn't come immediately, of course. But it came. An open invitation to join. Just like that. They were looking for members after all. And he was, despite himself, still looking for a pack.

He said no, at first. Thought he might honor is original vow. Head back home to Sten, to Piper, to his parents. He only intended on staying with them a few nights before he headed out. Then nights turned into weeks. Then weeks into months. Then leaving was no longer a question.

He couldn't help it, something about Sam's pack…intrigued him. Drew him in. Something about the company, the lodge, the kids his age. And something about Sam herself.

She was, overwhelmingly, everything he wasn't. Her strength came from patience. Kindness. Honesty. Her strength was in the tambour of her voice instead of the curve of her teeth. The gentle understanding of her words rather than the sharpness of her claws. As far as alphas went, she was something else entirely.

Not to say she didn't have the typical alpha traits. The strength. The wisdom. The confidence. But that's not why the other half-wolves followed her. They followed because they trusted her. They followed because they respected her. She didn't raise her voice at them. She didn't beat them, push them around, force them into fighting. Not like the other alphas. She treated them all, every single one of them, like equals. The pack dynamics were there, but it wasn't what she cared about. She cared about _them_. And in time, so did he.

The offer didn't come immediately. Because Sam knew if he was going to join it would have to be on his own terms, for his own reasons. But it came. An open invitation to join. He was to be made second rank, her beta. Chris didn't seem to mind the demotion. Surprisingly, no one did.

Because Sam was clever. She recognized his dominance, his ambition, the moment they met. Everything the others were afraid of. But she knew power wasn't all he wanted. He was looking for someone to fight for, _something_ to fight for. So she gave it to him.

Sam was clever. She saw the strength that haunted him like a shadow, the power and dominance he'd worked so hard for so long to build. But she knew strength without cause was worthless. He was looking for someone to fight beside as well as for. So she gave it to him. In the form of the pack. In herself.

Ever since he was a child, all Mike had wanted was strength. After all, strength was the way of the wolf, the way of the pack. But strength wasn't everything. And the pack was never his alone.

Eventually, he relented. Eventually, Mike said yes.

Oo0oO

 **A/N:** Wow...this is really late. And really long...

I'll admit, this chapter took me a lot more time and revision than usual, mostly because I couldn't decide on a theme. Although it's very different from what I originally intended, I sort of like how it turned out? Let me know what you think.

On that note, what finally inspired me to sit down and finish this chapter was the beginning of NaNoWriMo, something I hadn't even heard about until...well until today. I'll be honest, I have no grand illusions of churning out a 50,000 word novel in a month. But at the very least, I intend to tackle this series with a little more vigor, and maybe even finish it. So I thank you all for your support and patience, in awaiting this chapter and the series in general. And good luck to any other authors out there participating in NaNoWriMo, stay strong!


	7. Blood

Oo0oO

 _Josh_

They should have drowned him. They should have abandoned him. Let the frost have him, let the wind and snow wipe away the pathetic excuse that was his life. Or better yet, let the hunters do it. If nothing else, they'd give him a clean death.

If they were feeling generous, maybe they'd drop him off in a human orphanage. Give him a few months of peace before they found out. Let them draw their guns the first time he changed. Let them put a bullet between his burning emerald eyes.

But his parents had always been kind. Too good for their own good. And so they kept him. And so they loved him.

Both grave mistakes.

Oo0oO

Josh had always been the weakest. Runt of the litter, born behind his twin sisters, Beth and Hannah. His parents must have wanted a boy, they stopped after him.

They should have kept trying.

They should have killed him.

But they didn't. For whatever reason they didn't.

And their decision gave him -the runt, the weakling - a chance at life. In any other pack he would have been killed. He knew that. But for some reason, they didn't.

It was immediately apparent that Josh was nothing like his sisters. They were playful, spry, natural hunters. Barking up all the right trees, bright and beautiful in every sense. Clever as the devil and twice as pretty.

 _Well, then_. Josh pondered, years after the fact. _Guess that makes me the devil._

He was slow, in comparison. Out of touch, almost. Kept to himself, even around others. Or at least, around them. Because even as a child Josh wasn't ignorant to the facts. That he was NOTHING like them. And he never would be.

Hannah and Beth grew up on play-fights. Watching their father hunt, mirroring his prowl until it was as natural as the swing in their hips. Josh, for his part, tried. He tried to fight like them, think like them, hunt like them. But their movements always had something his didn't. They were sleek and sly, agile and precise in every step, every twist and turn. Josh was a mess. He tumbled through his lessons, tripped over his own-two feet. His prowl was awkward and gangly, hips always out of place and his feet thumping clumsily along the ground. His sisters laughed at him, despite their parents' warnings. It was okay. He would have laughed too.

Fighting, hunting, was his sister's game. Josh passed his childhood in warm corners, drunk on stories. His mother always told the best. She'd grown up deep in the mountains, far beyond the reach of humans, where frost clung to the land year after year. Food was scarce, friends scarcer. The cold was a more constant companion than her own siblings, or at least that's how she made it seem. She spoke of fighting, not always over food, sometimes just as a way to stave off the cold. Apparently, she'd been pretty good at it.

But for all the trials of that land, she remained soft. A rare thing these days. So when she ran into a freshly turned half-wolf on the edge of the mountains, she ran away with him.

That was the part his sisters liked the most, when they bothered to listen. When she met their dad. Josh rather liked everything that came before. Living life on the edge, not knowing where the next meal will come from but having enough faith in your own strength that you know it _will_ come…

Josh longed to be like her. His mother. To have even a fraction of her strength. He longed too to be like his father. To master the hunt such as he, mirror a _sliver_ of his silent resolve.

But he couldn't. No matter how hard he tried.

And he did try. He tried with everything he had. Year after year Josh gave it everything he had, put every ounce of his being into the hunt, the fight, the hunger. He devoted himself to everything that it meant to be a _wolf_.

And he failed.

His prey heard him coming from a mile away. His fights all ended with him on the cold ground. And the hunger was just…missing. Oh, he would boast about its being their all the time to his sisters, his parents, anyone who would listen. But…it just wasn't. And without that…how could he even call himself a wolf?

Oo0oO

Years passed, and nothing changed. As he and his sisters reached age, and their family became something more like a pack, he had the proof of his failure shoved right in his face. Omega. A title strung like shame around his neck. Just another word for something Josh knew all along.

His family tried to be supportive. Made out like it didn't mean anything.

"A lot of packs nowadays only hold ranks as a formality." Beth tried to appease him. Josh wondered if she only spoke so smugly because she, and not Hannah, had made 3rd.

Besides, it didn't matter if it was a formality. It was the truth. No matter what, no matter how much he wished or hoped or dreamed, he'd always be the runt. The weakling. Useless.

"It's okay. I don't mind." He spoke the words through a tight smile.

They should have drowned him.

Oo0oO

He should be dead. He knew that. He knew how useless he was, just how much he dragged them down. He could barely hunt, couldn't fight. Running was about the only thing he was good at.

 _So maybe I should just run._

Given the woods, given the cold, he was, in essence, choosing death. He made it out a few miles from their cabin. Farther than he'd ever been alone. But Josh had known since half the distance he wouldn't go through with it. Too weak even to run away. God, how pathetic.

He was on his way back when he was stopped dead in his tracks. Even for all that he lacked, he trusted his nose. And he'd know _that_ smell anywhere. It was blood.

He felt his limbs freeze. _Whose blood was it?_ He knew his sisters were out hunting, it was one of the reasons he was able to slip away. Could it be they had followed him and somehow gotten injured? Or maybe… it was one of the rogues, the packless wolves that passed occasionally through their territory. Fresh out of a fight, itching for more. Josh shivered.

Reluctant, but seeking answers, he tasted the air, opening his mouth slightly and letting the scent flood his lungs. No, it wasn't wolf blood. At that, Josh sighed in relief. But there still remained the question, whose blood was it?

Fear gripped his chest. If it was kill, then somewhere had to be a killer. And most killers don't take kindly to outsiders wandering into their hunt. But despite himself, Josh had to know. Just in case…just in case. Slowly, as silently as he could manage, he nosed through the underbrush.

He followed his nose. 10, 20, 100ft. Then the smell was so strong it was practically on top of him. _This is it._ Josh braced himself, rounding the last tree-

On the other side was a clearing, shoved up against the side of a sheer cliff. Loose rocks indicated the fall, dark spot in the rock face showed the descent. And there, lying in the snow at his feet, was a buck.

Josh couldn't believe his eyes.

It was dead, but only just. Josh must have missed the fall while wrapped up in his own thoughts. The buck must have taken it wrapped up in its own. It had been a quick death, gone in an instant, its neck broken. Many could only hope to be so lucky.

But as for luck, Josh could hardly believe his. _A fully grown buck, in this weather?_ It would feed his family for a week. Josh grinned. And, more importantly, they'd think the kill was his. He'd tell them how it happened, how he was wandering near the den when he caught scent of the buck. How he tracked it through the forests, slipping through shadows, until finally he cornered it near a cliff. How he fought it back, how it fell. Not entirely a lie. But just enough.

Eagerly, Josh approached the buck, sinking his teeth into the lower base of its neck.

The winter had been hard. They'd been living off rabbits and tree roots. A kill like this would do wonders. And that it was his kill well… Maybe he wasn't so useless after all.

After adjusting his grip on the deer, Josh tugged. He felt himself gasp. It was heavy, heavier than he thought it would be. While he'd eaten deer before, he of course, had never been the one to make the kill. But still, he never imagined it'd weigh quite so much.

For a second, Josh paused, considering. He should call to his sisters. They were out hunting somewhere, they should be able to hear him, come help. _But…_ Josh hesitated. The lie was still fresh in his head. He wasn't sure he'd be able to convince them. Where were his wounds from fighting back the stag? How did he notice the buck but his parents didn't? Since when did he know how to track? In the long haul back to their cabin, he wasn't sure he could fend them all off. But if he were to arrive with the buck unexpected…

Josh nodded to himself. So it was settled. He'd take it back alone. Bending back down, he took the buck again in his teeth. Then, he began pulling.

It was only a little over 2 miles back to the cabin. But it was slow going, the buck weighed a ton, and the resolve that first spurned Josh quickly faded to the cold and exhaustion. The trek too wasn't easy, the path home twisting and turning through the woods, over dips and outcrops, underbrush that caught on his prey's antlers. Everything slowed him down, and it wasn't long before the sun began to wane in the sky. He heard howls over the horizon – his sisters, looking for him. He ignored them. He'd be home soon enough. And they'd be so surprised, so proud of him…

He trekked on.

Oo0oO

He made it back just as night was breaking. A wide smile to match their wide eyes. Here he was, the runt of the litter, bringing home the largest kill they'd seen in months. He was right. They were impressed, they were proud. There was disbelief too, but also love. So much love. _You did it Josh. You did it._

For a moment, everything was perfect. Then the moment ended.

Oo0oO

There's an old saying about the woods. _No matter where you step, where you hide in it, you're never truly alone. The woods see everything._

That day, they saw the elk, the fall. That day, they saw the young, eager-to-please runt with a clever lie and a lot to prove. That day, they saw an opportunity.

There's an old saying about the woods. Just as there's an old saying amongst wolves. _Be cautious with your kill. The smell of blood travels fast, and you're never the only one looking for a quick meal._

That day, Josh wasn't the only one out in the woods. That day, he was followed.

It all happened so quickly. One moment, everything was perfect. And then the beast appeared.

It was a massive, hulking thing. Dark brown and dusted with snow and dirt. Eyes shining black moons and teeth glinting yellow stars. Its roar was a black hole.

"Run." Josh's father spoke the word once, slowly. "Go!-" He barely finished the exclamation when one of its claws caught his face, tearing through fur and flesh and sending him flying.

"DAD!" Beth and Hannah exclaimed, making a movement toward him.

"Get Back!" It was his mother. In a moment, she'd leaped over them, standing between his recovering father and the beast. "You need to run! Now! Get OUT of here!"

Josh saw his sisters hesitate.

 _We need to move._ He agreed with his mother. But as he tried… To his horror, he couldn't. He couldn't move.

 _No no no no no_ Despite himself, despite everything screaming in his ear telling him to run, to move, to fight, to hide, to do something….he couldn't move.

"Josh!" He heard his mother cry out. But he couldn't, he couldn't. He was frozen, knees locked, eyes straight ahead. He couldn't…he couldn't.

That's when he felt the impact. A massive force, hard and fast and tearing, slam into his side. Like being hit by a car. _Wham!_ For a moment, the shock overwhelmed him. He was standing. And then he was flying. Then a second collision. A horrible skidding and tumbling. And then he stopped.

He heard screams, he thought. But Josh couldn't move. He could feel the place of impact, on his torso just past his left foreleg. He could feel himself bleeding, the blood warm and sticky against the cold, catching on his fur and spilling, spilling. He could feel the snow like a coffin around him, hugging his bruised body like a death wish. He was alive, but… He couldn't move.

He heard their screams. But they felt unreal, far away somehow. Like a passing thought in the back of his mind. Eyes wide, unseeing anything but the blood-stained snow around him, Josh just laid there. The screams continued. So did the roars, bellowing and angry. He felt the ground shake under him. Felt the air scream and bite around him. Once, he thought he felt something splash across his face. Something else warm and sticky. But he couldn't move. No matter how hard he tried. No matter what he did. He couldn't speak, he couldn't move. He just laid there.

Time passed. At least, Josh imagined it passed. He didn't know how long it had been. But eventually, his knees unbuckled. The breath returned to him. Slowly. Slowly. Slowly he stood up.

One by one. Slowly, ever slowly, his senses came back to him. The pain came first. Even then, it was a half-muted, suffocated kind of thing. But he felt it. The gash in his side, the bruises lining his body, the weight of himself pushing back against the ground. It was terrible, dizzying. But it was something. He felt too, the smaller things. The shiver in his bones, the ache in his muscles, the sticky feeling of his fur. It was something, it was terrible.

Next came sound. It was quiet. Dead quiet. Impossibly quiet. There was the huff of his own breathing against the night air. And nothing else. Aside from him, the world was utterly, completely silent.

Taste and scent came next, hand in hand as always. Both told equally the same, equally as little. Everything smelled like blood. His mouth was flooded with it, his lungs holding it in like a keepsake. Everywhere, overwhelming, was that terrible, heavy copper smell. Like holding the deer, but 10 times stronger. 10 times worse. Josh barely had it in him to resist the urge to vomit.

Then, inevitably, came sight. Only for a half-second. For a half-second, Josh lifted his eyes. And he saw it all. The snow all around him was disturbed, blood soaked and dirty. Fresh powder had covered some of it, but it was all there. Evidence of a fight was everywhere. And its participants…

One half second. That was all. But it was all he needed. There were the bodies. And there was the blood. There was all of it, and there was him. The only one left.

Oo0oO

They should have killed him. If they had, they would have lived. It was his mistake, he should have been the one to pay for it. But instead, he was the only one left. And them: Hannah, Beth, his dad, his mom….they were all dead.

Even the beast was gone, amongst the ruin he'd seen its corpse, a massive hulking thing. He imagined it was his mother's work. But even she couldn't save them. Couldn't save herself.

Of all corpses, hers had landed the closest to him. A trail of blood streaked across the snow to end lying just beside him. She'd used the last of her strength to _die_ beside him. She was missing part of her bottom half.

As for his father, his sisters… The ground was scattered with remains. Wolf, bear, elk. Streaks of blood stained the clearing in all directions. There was nothing left of them.

One half second. That's how long he stood there, looking. And then he ran. He ran harder and faster than he ever had in his life. He fell once, twice. Felt his wound spill with flesh blood. He didn't stop. Even when he fell one third, final time, when he felt his leg snap and his resolve go with it, he couldn't stop. He was crying. Alone, half-dead, still crawling, Josh cried. And then the world went black.

Oo0oO

He would have died there. Should have died there. She should have let him.

But he didn't. For some God-forsaken reason, the universe wanted him alive. And so they sent her.

She was a rogue. One of the packless. One of those crazy, cub-stealing wanderers his parents always warned him about. He knew it immediately. But he didn't care. At this point, death, even at her hands, would have been a blessing. She didn't. For whatever reason, she didn't.

He was slipping in and out of consciousness. For days, weeks, he wasn't sure how long. In-between those flickers he saw her. White fur and emerald eyes. An angel, his mother.

It wasn't for weeks, when the fog in his head cleared and consciousness reacquainted itself with him that saw he was wrong. White fur turned golden, emerald eyes hazel. A wolf many years his senior turned out in fact, to be his age.

"Sam." She told him, after he met her own questions with silence. "My name is Sam."

Oo0oO

For months, they lived like that. In one-way conversations, in and out of consciousness, in a small cave just barely big enough to host the two of them.

Slowly. Slowly. Slowly. Slowly, she nursed him back to health. Set his leg, stitched his wound, forced herbs and human meds down his throat. Where she'd learned about medicine he had no idea. He didn't care. He was as thankful as he was apathetic.

Slowly. Slowly. Slowly she got him to eat. It was hardly more than roots at first, anything even close to the smell of meat sent him dry-heaving. But eventually, he was eating scraps again. Skin then breast then thigh then straight from the bone.

Slowly. Slowly she got him to move. He hardly left the mouth of the case but it was _something_. And she seemed proud of him for even that.

Slowly. After months of silence, she got him to speak.

"Josh." After months of total muteness, he deiced to answer her first question. "My name is Josh."

Oo0oO

 **A/N:** Ahaha. Aha. I'm so tired. This is so fucked up.

I know I promised November updates, but I started 2 new jobs and things have been...pretty hectic. But I'm back, and hopefully this break won't be as long.

In any case, I'm so sorry, I promise this is the saddest any of their origin stories get. But yea. Poor Josh. I feel bad but it was necessary. Thankfully Sam is up next, and hers will have a lot of redemption and feel good for all the characters, Josh especially. Hers will be the final chapter in this series, and then I'm done! Hope you guys stick around.

Thanks as always to everyone reading, see you in the next story!


	8. Family

Oo0oO

 _Sam_

Sam had been alone for a long time. She wasn't always lonely, but sometimes the night got to her more than usual. Sometimes she thought of home more than she would have liked.

For Sam, home had never been a place. It was people. It was her family. Once upon a time, it was her biological one. Or, part of it at least. Once upon a time, it was just the two of them. Sam, and her mother.

Her father was somewhere. Anywhere. Her parents had parted on friendly terms hardly a year after her birth. It was nothing unusual. After all, they'd met only a few months before, in passing. And when days in passing became months, around came Sam.

She supposed it was inevitable it didn't last between the two of them. They were loners, the two of them; it was hard to stay in one place for more than a couple of weeks, for them to tie themselves to the forest like the packs. And without the numbers, the security of the pack, it was simply safer on the run. Never letting your roots touch down, never getting too involved. From a pack wolf's perspective, it was a damning existence. Out in the woods, without any true home or the typical alpha/beta dynamics of the packs…it was maddening. Most wolves, turned or not, couldn't handle it for more than a few months at best.

But it was the only life Sam had ever known. And, at least at first, she wasn't alone. It was her and her mother, the two of them loners together. Away from the influence of the packs, far beyond the reaches of human society, Sam's mother raised her.

It was difficult at first, Sam gleaned as much from her mother's tales of the early years. To raise a young child in these woods without the protection of a pack was foolish at best, a death wish for both mother and child at worst. On numerous occasions, especially during the winters, her mother almost did join. But they always found a way. By luck or sheer willpower, they survived.

And then Sam was old enough to hunt, and the worst of it had passed. She asked her mother many times why she hadn't joined a pack during those early years, why she would choose to stake both their lives on the mercy of the wilderness, rather than relent and join the packs. No matter how she asked it, Sam never got a clear answer. It was something to do with an old grudge her mother held against the packs. An old clan war, some ancient rivalry that brewed from "too many hot-blooded wolves in one place." Someone had died, apparently. Someone close to her. And ever since, her mother had avoided the packs like wildfire.

Still, Sam couldn't understand her mother's aversion. Perhaps on account of her mother's vagueness, she never grew to despise the idea. In fact, growing up on stories of the packs and brief encounters in passing, Sam began to grow fascinated with them. She dreamed of what life must have been like in the larger packs; those 20, 30 strong. Sam wasn't even sure she'd seen even half that many wolves all together at once. Most of their encounters were with scouting parties, directing Sam and her mother through territories or spooking them off of it. Occasionally there were respites with other loners, but even that was only one, maybe two other half-wolves at a time. The thought of being constantly surrounded by so many others…

Despite her mother's feelings, Sam dared to wonder what it must be like. In the snow she play-wrestled with imaginary siblings, scaled fallen trees with imagined mentors and fictional companions. She daydreamed her way through her life in a pack, her journey through the ranks from omega toward beta, and eventually alpha. She was sure, somehow, that she'd make a good one. She even told her mother as much, boasting her skills from a slanted rock that one might have called a dais, had she known the word.

Her mother snorted playfully at her, remarking that she'd never known an alpha with such poor hunting skills. Or small stature. Sam, at least at the time, didn't see it as as big of a problem as her mother. She had years to learn about all of that. And then, she thought, as soon as she was old enough she'd join. Finally, she'd have a home. She'd have a title, a rank. Something real, something permanent.

And most importantly, she'd have a family. At least, a family bigger than two. Maybe when she made alpha, she'd even convince her mom to join. Maybe, she thought, all of the play-worlds she imagined wandering through the woods as a child weren't so out of reach after all.

Oo0oO

In the beginning, Sam thought often of home. That is, her first home, the shelters built haphazardly in the night or nestled into during storms, the ones she carved with her mother, during their years on the run. She thought often of hunting in the quiet of the woods, her mother's watchful eyes on her as she made her first kill. Despite her daydreams, for the most part it wasn't a bad life. When things were good, when they were out of reach of the packs and food was plentiful, it was peaceful. Despite its often unforgiving nature, nothing could ever quite match the quiet of the forest at night. Even as she longed to escape it, the life of a loner wasn't always bad.

And then came the storm. As with all things, too early, too violent; a sudden and messy thing that drenched the landscape and tore through woods like hungry beast. Sam was barely thirteen when it happened. She was just beginning to master the hunt, learning the more fine details of how her mother moved through the trees, swift and silent like the breeze. Just a few years from making her dream of going off on her own, of finding a pack, a reality. She was so close. And then, the storm hit.

They didn't know the landscape well. They'd been passing through, barely arrived in the area when the storm hit. There had been no time to scout the area, and the wind and rain left them hardly any room to do so then. Buffeted by wet, hungry gusts of air, they stumbled blindly through the forest. The turmoil was enough to wipe out their senses almost completely, the sound of collapsing trees and crumbling hillsides mixing together with the heavy sound of water pounding across the landscape, the wind streaking like a banshee across their coats and past their ears.

Neither of them heard the sound of the river until it was too late. And suddenly they were falling. And suddenly they were drowning.

Oo0oO

Sam had been taught how to swim long ago by her mother. She was young, agile, and even in the turbulence, she managed to keep her head above water. Battered around like a rock tumbling over a hillside, she managed regardless to keep swimming. Her lungs ached from gasping, from being plunged again and again under the roaring waters. Her muscles strained, legs struggling to find purchase, occasionally catching on the bank or shallower ground, only to be swept out from under her moments later by the sweeping flow. Desperation and instinct kept her alive, a fight in her soul she wasn't aware she had pumping her forward despite the pain. _You will live through this._ Even in the roaring turmoil of the storm, it was dead calm. _You will survive this._

And she did. And she was the only one.

Oo0oO

She buried her mother beneath a fir tree, in a quiet grove far beyond the river's reach. For days Sam stood over her mother's grave, a bastion in silent vigilance, unable to bring herself to leave her side.

Before, loss had been nothing more than a concept to Sam. It was an idea, foreign to her even as she thought she understood its basic premise. Passing, after all, was steeped in death, and the forest was full of it. But loss is something personal. Loss is a death that takes someone and then takes you with it.

When Sam lost her mother, she lost a part of herself. How couldn't she? Her mother was everything to her, everything she had. Her mother was her family, her mentor, her friend. Her mother was her safe place, her calm in the storm. Her mother was her home. In her absence, it was Sam and the forest. For the first time in her life, she was honestly, truly alone.

When her mother left, she took a part of Sam with her. It left a hole in her somewhere, a hole that felt as tangible and real to Sam as being. So she did the only thing she could, she tried to fill it.

Out of necessity almost more than want, she found a pack. Stumbled into their lives, begging for refuge. She thought being around others would help, would fill the hole. But pack life wasn't what she thought it was.

She came in as an outsider, lost and broken, still a kid, but falling apart at the seams. They couldn't well turn her away. But they never really accepted her either. Sure, she was given a rank, given tasks, taught the ways of the pack. But she wasn't family to them. She was a charity case.

Eventually she couldn't take it. She was there only a few weeks before she realized it. And then she flung herself back into the wilderness, to the trees and the silence and the life of a loner.

But just like that the silence of the forest lost its comfort. Because it was too much, because the silence she grew accustomed to was never really silence. Silence was the muted footfalls of her mother's next to hers, the whoosh of her tail and the twitch of her ears. Silence was her breath, calm and steady like the rise and fall of the ocean. Silence was the lullabies she hummed every night as Sam fell asleep, the ones she pretended to hate but secretly revered. Silence was her laughter, her stories, her watchful eye. All of her silence was stolen away with the wind and the river.

And what was left was earth-shattering. What was left was the quiet. It was the gap between breaths, the echo of emptiness. It was suddenly all there and it was all suddenly too much. Too much and not enough.

It was driving her mad.

Oo0oO

She was looking for noise. For something loud, for clamor enough to make her ears bleed and her lungs pound. So, Sam fled to the loudest place she could think of. The city.

She'd been there once before, with her mother. Learned how to walk and talk like humans, learned their systems, their rules. At the time, it was all too much for Sam. The streets too noisy, their society too complicated. But after her mother's death, after that loss…somehow it was what she needed.

Being around people was right as wrong as it was. The thrum of their energy, their motion distracted her from the ache. Everything about them was fast, their cities and the people in it always somehow in constant motion. And it was better than the silence.

Slowly, slowly, Sam learned how to be human. She learned their systems, their speech, and their rules both spoken and unspoken. She learned that her age was a problem, but only if she admitted to being alone and only if she didn't have money. She found her away around both. Lived life with a foot in both the forest and the city. The woods kept her fed, gave her shelter. The city kept her sane.

Her home was impermanent. Her home was the line between worlds, between wolf and human. It was a line she had never considered before. Traveling with her mother, and in her brief time with the pack, she had spent most of her time in wolf form. She considered herself - first, foremost, and lastly - a wolf. The fact that she could turn into a human was merely a convenient coincidence.

But living on the edge of both lives, Sam learned to appreciate both. Because she wasn't a wolf. She may have been raised like one, but it wasn't the end of her story. And she certainly wasn't a human. She was both and neither. She was a half-wolf.

And more than that, living between the city and the woods taught her something else. They taught her who she was without her mother. When she died, her loss hit Sam hard. When she died, she took a part of Sam with her, undeniably. But not all of her. And slowly, Sam learned to understand the parts of her that were left.

She had her mother in her, certainly. She had her coat for one, golden and sleek. Her patience, her will, certainly. And of course, her skills, the methods of hunting and fighting and surviving that Sam carried in her every movement. But Sam was more than that. She had her father's eyes, hazel and daring. She had his charm, out of practice as she was with its use. And she had his heart. His love for her mother and the wilderness despite everything.

But as Sam grew in-between both worlds, she learned that she was also more than the both of them, than the sum of their parts. Despite everything, she was exceedingly kind, considerate. As broken and lonely as her past and present were, they were her burdens to bare. As others in need crossed her path, other half-wolves and drifters in need of help, she reached out to them. She was a diligent, hard-working, a natural byproduct of growing up between worlds but also a byproduct of who she was as a person. And, of course, she was a dreamer. Always had been.

After about a year of living a life between, Sam moved on.

Oo0oO

For the next several years, Sam spent her life traveling. A loner once more, alone again in the expanse of the forest. But she wasn't plagued by the same loneliness from before. She knew who she was, the person her mother had raised and the person into whom she had made herself. And while she loved her mother, and missed her dearly, she would survive without her.

For years she wandered in and out of packs, in and out of cities, back and forth across the line that divided wolves and humans. But she wasn't always moving. Occasionally she found places that felt right, packs or residences that could've been home. In packs, she refined her skills, learned what it meant to be a part of something bigger, learned how to fight for it. In the places she did pause, she made higher ranks without much difficulty - much to other, especially male half-wolves' displeasure. Among humans, she refined herself, learned who she was and what she wanted. Although for many years it was vague, the shadow of a full idea, eventually she landed near a conclusion:

She wanted a pack. One that felt right, one that she could truly call her own. A family.

Initially, she hadn't intended to start her own. She'd been looking for one that felt right, with the right people, the right mentality. She was in-between when she found him. A half-wolf, about her age. Half-dead and half-buried in the falling snow. His fur was coal black, matted with blood. His leg was broken, angry wounds crossing his flesh and desperation clinging to his form. He was going to die there. He should have died there. Any sane half-wolf would have left him. The scent of his blood would attract a scene. A fresh corpse in this winter was bound to. And then, even if she could steal away with him, move him somewhere safe, he was in bad condition. There was no guarantee he'd survive.

But she tried anyways. Slowly, carefully, she moved his body. She used snow to cover the blood, burned bark and low-hanging leaves to mask the scent. With difficulty, she gradually moved his body into shelter, a cave low to the ground and barely tall enough to stand in. But it would do. There, she nursed the young half-wolf back to health.

It was a slow process. The surface wounds were easy enough to address, bandaging coupled with regular cleaning made them manageable at least. A deeper wound near his back left side was more difficult. While not deep, the cuts there were long, the whole area bruised like it had taken a heavy impact. Slowing their bleeding was a challenge that took lots of bandages and a lot of luck, but eventually she succeeded. She made frequent runs to human cities during the process, using the few dollars she had on her and pan-handling the rest to get the meds and supplies he needed. But eventually she got him in stable condition.

However, nursing him back to health would be a much longer, slower process. For weeks he slipped in and out of consciousness, delirious with pain. She did what she could to settle him, address his aches, but she knew it would take time. In the meantime, she hunted. The winter was long and cold, food was few and far-between, especially when she was hunting for two. But she had been through worse. She knew how to survive this.

And she did. And they did.

Slowly, slowly, she brought the young half-wolf back from the brink of death. She spoke to him once she was sure he was all there, told him the details of their situation, asked for his name. However, her questioned were met with silence. Physically, it seemed, he was there. But mentally…

Sam knew he could hear her, understand her. Although faint, there was the slightest hint of recognition when she spoke, an acknowledgement of her demands. But he was disconnected from her too it seemed. Like his mind was somewhere else, grappling with something far larger than her. She acknowledged this, and didn't push. Instead, she gave him her name, told him she would watch over him. Although it was the slightest of changes, she could tell he heard her. And it was a start. It was enough.

Oo0oO

For months, they lived like that. In one-way conversations, in and out of consciousness, in a small cave just barely big enough to host the two of them.

Slowly. Slowly. Slowly. Slowly, she nursed him back to health. Set his leg, stitched his wound, forced herbs and human meds down his throat.

Slowly. Slowly. Slowly she got him to eat. It was hardly more than roots at first, anything even close to the smell of meat sent him dry-heaving. But eventually, he was eating scraps again. Skin then breast then thigh then straight from the bone.

Slowly. Slowly she got him to move. He hardly left the mouth of the cave but it was _something_. And she was proud of him for even that.

Slowly. After months of silence, she got him to speak.

"Josh." His voice was steady, although hardly above a whisper. "My name is Josh."

Oo0oO

For months, it was just the two of them. It was quiet existence at first, a period of recovery and building trust. But it was comfortable, it felt right.

As the winter passed, they moved from their cave into a secluded clearing, building a den in the space between low-hanging branches. Gradually, gradually, they grew to trust each other. Shared their stories, their pasts. Sam shared her past as a loner, her time traveling with her mom and her time living between the city and the forest. She spoke of her time living with the packs, the months and months she spent trying to find her own. She spoke of how rank came almost naturally to her, how strength and will were all she ever knew growing up outside the packs. How fighting for those she cared about had never really been a question. It was simply who she was.

Gradually, much more so than her, Josh shared his own past as well. He spoke of his family, his past, of his life spent as the omega. He envied her as much as she envied him, almost convinced if he had grown up outside the packs he would have been 'strong like she was.'

Sam had laughed at that, though politely.

"Strength is a state of mind." She admittedly, candidly. "And even the strongest have times when they falter."

Slowly, gradually, Josh grew to believe her, to trust her. Nearing eight months after they first met, Josh told her the whole story. About his family, about their deaths. About how it was all his fault. He hadn't intended to wait as long as he did. But it was the first time he was certain he could tell the story while still holding himself together.

Sam consoled him. Told him it wasn't his fault. He insisted it was. She insisted it wasn't. And she told him every day. I _t's not your fault. You didn't cause this. You're worth so much Josh._

It took time, but eventually her words started to sink in. Eventually, he started to believe them.

Oo0oO

It was autumn when they returned to the place where his family died. Their remains were long gone, scavengers and the elements doing their part to wipe away the traces of what happened there. Now, all that was left were the memories. Besides the clearing they placed four stones in a line, each the size of a soccer ball. One for his mother, for his father, one for each of his two sisters. A makeshift grave for their final resting place. Josh broke down as he looked upon them all. He cried, let himself feel all of the hurt he'd been only half-addressing for so long. And it hurt, and it hurt. But it was good. It needed to.

Eventually he steadied himself. He could still feel the ache, but it was better. He could do this.

In human form, he and Sam threw open the doors to the lodge. It was dark, musty. There were signs of passing wildlife, creatures perhaps temporarily or permanently calling the cabin home during the past months. But even so, it was sturdy. It was there's'.

They spent months cleaning it up, repairing what was broken and putting everything back together. Sam even got a temporary job to cover some of the costs. By the time the frosts rolled around, everything came into place. It was there's. It was home.

Oo0oO

It was only a few weeks later when Matt rolled around. He was still somewhat recently turned, mottled dark-brown fur and dark eyes, naturally a low-ranking wolf and clearly insecure about it. He was looking for a pack. When he stumbled across the two of them, he laughed.

"You've gotta be kidding."

Sam couldn't blame him. While her and Josh were close, they were still hardly more than strays. And as far as power dynamics went, they couldn't be more different.

"We're serious." Her tone was firm but friendly. "And this is our pack."

"But it's just the two of you. And you're…" He glanced the two of them up and down.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "We're…?"

"Kids? Crazy? Both really." His tone was incredulous. "And you-" He looked to Sam. "You're supposed to be the alpha? But you're…"

She knew what he was trying to say. _But you're a girl._

She didn't blame him. During her journeys through the packs, she'd seen the general disdain toward female alphas, towards she-wolves with that sort of presence, that sort of power. In some of her late packs, she'd grown accustomed to that scorn, the contempt that accompanied her taking higher ranks. It was an old and misguided principle, that association of masculinity and power. In her own experience, it was heart that mattered most.

Sam laughed. "I get that a lot."

Like it was no big deal.

Because it wasn't, although she could tell it was to him. If it mattered to him, if it _really_ mattered, he would leave. Or he would challenge her. And either way she would get her answer.

She left his invitation open-ended. Let him join or deny at his leisure. Sam could tell it bothered him. Her being the alpha, his rank, the whole system in general. But he was looking for a home. And with nowhere else to go, he eventually found one with them.

Oo0oO

It was about a week later that another half-wolf stumbled into their lives, when Josh and Chris quite literally ran into each other in the woods near the lodge. He was a large wolf, with a thick golden pelt and bright blue eyes. Like Matt, it was clear he was on the run from his own demons. However, Sam quickly discovered, all of Chris's demons were related to him.

Likewise looking for a pack, and clearly amused at Sam's growing collection of strays, Chris was quick to join. And, after a rather brief discussion of the matter, he comfortably slid into 2nd rank under Sam, the pack's first official beta. With Matt taking 3rd rank and Josh omega, for the first time, they were starting to look like a pack.

Oo0oO

A few weeks later, they found Ashley in the woods. Russet-red fur stained with blood, green eyes wide and panicked. She had been jumped by a group of she-wolves, whose scent haunted the outskirts of the mountain Sam's group had set up on. It had been a bloody encounter, but between Sam and Chris they had been able to fend off the group without taking any serious injuries.

Together, they hauled Ashley back to the lodge, bandaged her wounds and brought her up to speed. She was freshly turned, not even a month into being a half-wolf, and clearly carrying some heavy resentment by it. It made Josh and Chris nervous, both separately approaching Sam on the topic of whether it was safe to keep her around. Sam assured them it was. And while it took time for Ashley to fully adjust, as well as begin to address a few demons of her own, eventually she fit right in, taking 3rd rank between Chris and Matt, now pushed to 4th.

Oo0oO

It was only days later when they found Mike, a large black wolf with piercing yellow eyes. Mistaking his natural dominance for rank, Chris and Matt brought him to Sam thinking he was the alpha of the pack that attacked Ashley. It didn't take long for the truth to come out: he was a loner, just like the rest of them. Once the misunderstanding had cleared, Sam extended her usual offer. After all, with his youth and his headstrong personality, he was just their pack's type.

Initially, he refused. It wasn't hard for Sam to fathom why. He was looking for his own pack, one to lead as an alpha. And he seemed to respect hers, and despite all his dominance Mike wasn't looking to fight her for control of it. But even as he refused, she encouraged him to stick around. And he did. He had intended for it to be a few days at most. Then days turned into weeks. Then a month.

After a time, Sam made her offer again. For his strength, for his natural dominance, Mike was offered 2nd rank, to be beta under Sam. Chris didn't seem to mind the demotion, for the most part no one did. This time, Mike said yes.

Oo0oO

About a month and a half later, Matt crossed paths with Emily in the woods, a half-wolf with jet black fur and dark eyes. Like Mike, Emily was terrifying in her own right, raised in a cutthroat pack that valued fighting prowess and strength above all else. As far as first impressions went, it was clear Emily had mixed feelings about Sam's pack. Although she had left to escape a life of fighting, she still carried it with her, the idea that rank and power determined one's worth. It was Sam who snapped her out of it, taught her about what power really meant, and why they bothered with it in the first place. Although Emily initially resisted Sam, she soon relented, her initially prickly nature softening as she joined, and grew to care about the members of the pack. She was assigned 4th rank, between Chris and Ashley. Eventually, she too found her place amongst the pack,

Oo0oO

Two weeks later Ashley ran into Jessica in the woods. Ashley had been hunting on the far side of the mountain when she ran into a group of wanderers. They'd been harassing her for her status as a turned wolf, catching her outnumbered and off guard. Jess had saved her, a golden-furred menace that fought holding nothing back. It was Ashley who had made the offer for Jess to join, grateful for the help and knowing Sam was looking for members. She said yes immediately. And upon returning to the lodge, there was hardly any discussion before they accepted her with open arms. She ended up taking 5th rank between Emily and Ashley. No discussion needed.

And just like that, that was it.

Just like that they had their pack.

Oo0oO

Sam had been alone for a long time. She wasn't always lonely, but sometimes the night got to her more than usual. Sometimes she thought of home more than she would have liked.

But now, Sam had a home. One that was hers, one she built for herself. One that she had built for them.

They were an unusual pack, certainly. None of them older than 20, half girls and half boys. A collection of former strays and pack wolves, turned and born wolves alike. To the outsider, it might have seemed a rather strange pack. But they were family, they were her family.

For Sam, home had never been a place. It was people.

And now, home was here.

Home was them.

Oo0oO

 **A/N:** HOOOOo boy guys we did it! With this, we conclude my part in this series, and the backstory for how everyone joined the pack. Thank you all so much for all of the support, I couldn't have done it without you guys.

This is the last official part of the series, though if there's enough support for it I'll be posting a spec sheet for information on all of the characters, their wolf forms, and what their exact ranking is in Sam's pack.

*Edit: Spec sheet is here! Link: private/163579763777/tumblr_otvoys1i9l1szsjud

Again, thank you all so much for your support (and patience!). Stay awesome, and thanks for reading. As always, see you in the next story!


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